#this is almost all the ones I had save on them personally and not their characters

[allypines]

crazy that the first thing either of us post about KoaC is a ship chart lmaoo

i'm so sorry fellswaps and swapfells but i needed room for the others

explanations (yapping) vv

first off, KoaC is predominately about a victorious!geno who enters the multiverse after erasing his timeline. The development of his relationship with Nightmare (among others) is the driving force behind the plot, and therefore it would be heavy spoilers to describe it now.

Nightmare is a badmare-leaning bitchmare, but is still only Nightmare. The human soul/essence was removed almost immediately.

Killer, Murder ("Dust"), Horror, and Cross are all under Nightmare's control. Needless to say, they hate him. They only kind of hate each other though. Killer's general nature and his position as Nightmare's favorite create a bit of distance between him and the others, but there's a trauma-bonded, coping mechanism, fucked up solidarity between them.

Despite never actually being together, Nightmare and Error act like toxic, bitter exes. Killer was the only subordinate around when Nightmare's arrogance blew up in his face, and he very, very quietly enjoyed the vengeance Error dealt to Nightmare. That's all I'll say about that for the time being lol.

Nightmare is terrified of Reaper and does all he can to avoid him. Reaper knows this and acknowledges that it's partly his own fault, but he also partly doesn't care. It isn't Reaper's job to pay attention to Nightmare, but Nightmare is familiar to him, which means that Reaper is at least a little bit fond of him. Whenever they do cross paths, Reaper makes sure to verbally poke him a bit.

Reaper and Error have a long history. Error's "job" tended to mess with Reaper's job, which then messed with Error's job. Basically, they saw each other a lot in the early days. Error found Reaper incredibly frustrating at the start, because he was unkillable, and he was taking the abominations Error was trying to erase, and he was always tALKING WHILE ERROR WAS TRYING TO FOCUS- yeah. Error loosened up over time, enough to even trade quips back and forth and compete a little. He grew a little dependent on the vague feeling of companionship between them, and Reaper was the one he went to when he wanted a way to die. Reaper, for his part, is fond of Error, but that fondness is tainted by guilt and sadness. Error is still the first Geno, and Reaper feels a bit of responsibility that he wasn't able to convince Geno to rest, thus leading to Error's painful existence. Errors cannot be "saved" by Reaper, so now all Reaper can offer him is friendly banter when they see each other.

Reaper knows Horror quite well. Because Horror was already "dead", he could see Reaper whenever he came to collect the humans Horror had killed in his AU. Reaper's reaction to Horror's situation was "yikes", which Horror found darkly funny (and even a little refreshing). They share a morbid sense of humor, and Horror genuinely enjoyed any distraction he could get from his reality. Their first meeting after Horror had been taken by Nightmare was an accident on Horror's part, but after that, whenever he needed a distraction and could get away with it, Horror would kill one random person on purpose for the chance to talk to Reaper. Reaper doesn't offer to help Horror, and Horror doesn't ask him to. Being able to talk to someone outside of Nightmare's influence, to experience any amount of normalcy, for a few moments is enough to ground him.

Reaper did not spend as much time raising Dream as Ink did, but in some ways Reaper's influence was much more important. Reaper taught Dream what it meant to be a Guardian, not a hero or a servant. He knows that Dream won't ever be able to just be a Guardian after eating the golden apple (now carrying his domain inside himself), but he does his best to help Dream figure out and understand what his responsibilities actually are. They occasionally see each other in the aftermath of Nightmare's attacks. Reaper is much softer to Dream than to anyone else, and Dream tries to focus on Reaper's voice in his head, instead of those of the villagers.

Fuck I got carried away, okay, time to speedrun the rest (edit: I did not speedrun the rest)

On the omega timeline side of things, swap sans #1 aka "swap" was living there after his universe was destroyed. He is good friends with Lust and Dance (who are besties), but his closest friends for sure are Sci and Fell. They play dnd together and other silly-serious roleplaying stuff. Blueberror offered his place in swap timeline #2 to him, but Swap declined. Even though he declined, he still appreciated the offer so so so much. Swap is Berror's number one defender and doesn't let anyone in the omega timeline get away with talking badly about him (even if he may deserve it).

Fell, Comic (classic), Sci, Swap, Outer, Dream, Blue (swap #3), Epic, and Blueberror (among others) are all part of the Reducing the Effects of Nightmare's Bullshit group. This mostly just includes providing aid to a timeline after the attack has already happened to mitigate the spread and staying power of the negativity. Epic mostly just assists Sci when he needs it, and brings every report back to Ccino's to share with the squad.

Epic sanses are epic sanses. They love each other, and they spend a lot of their time in the corner booth at Ccino's. Ccino (#2) has been in the omega timeline for years and hasn't left it. He's never met Nightmare before, and his friends (especially Delta) are insistent on keeping it that way. He knows that the Ccino from Fluffytale #1 was involved with Nightmare somehow, and disappeared (was pronounced dead) sometime after. He knows that Epic, Delta, and Color all hate Nightmare with varying degrees of intensity, so he's fine disliking Nightmare by proxy. The front counter at Ccino's is usually taken up by Outer and Farm. The three are besties. Outer and Ccino specifically being in a qpr. No one knows how Farm finds the time to laze around the cafe And grow enough to supply the cafe with half its ingredients. No one knows if he ever sleeps.

Rolling back around to Blueberror, he and Error go through a LOT of ups and downs, but they settle on being prickly besties. They can't actually spend a lot of time together before friendly arguments start to get heated. They don't Want to hate each other, so they try to avoid the past and mostly just gossip about other people. They feel tied together, but their edges don't fit together at all and being that close quickly gets uncomfortable, if not painful, but there's no one else who really gets it, so... they manage. It's not great by any means, but it's the best that two errors can do.

Blueberror and Fresh, on the other hand, get along great. On the surface, you'd think they were the best of friends, but their feelings for each other are actually surprisingly shallow. Sure, Blueberror is interesting, but he's interesting in the way that Error was already interesting, so Fresh doesn't actually spare him much of his thought or focus. Berror doesn't mind that at all. Prefers it, actually. They have a good, fun, easy "friendship" that doesn't actually require much from them.

Error and Fresh sure are something. No one knows what, but it's something.

Nightmare and Fresh are... neutral. Fresh owes much of his emotional intelligence to reading every book in Nightmare's library, which he only did with Nightmare's permission. Fresh is respectful... for the most part. He can't help but throw a half-hidden jab in here and there when they talk. Nightmare figures it's just his nature to do so, and lets him off with a warning every time. Fresh absolutely means them.

Ink is not actually around much. His "job" has him traveling all across the multiverse. He doesn't linger anywhere for very long, and he doesn't care to form any meaningful connections with anyone. Error is the only exception to this, and Ink has yet to figure out why that is. He woke Dream from his stone prison at the insistence of a Creator that doing so would help curb Error and Nightmare's rampage (it did not. One could even say it made Nightmare worse.). He'll say he raised Dream, but he didn't really do much, nor does he care about Dream any more than he does about other "important" outcodes.

Dream loves Blue (swap #3). It's actually crazy how much Dream loves Blue. Blue taught Dream to fight, Blue fights by Dream's side in a way no one else does, Blue makes Dream feel like a person, Blue catches his bad habits, Blue listens to him talk, Blue remembers his favorite flowers, how many blankets he likes to sleep with, which desserts he does and doesn't like, his opinion on cotton vs linen. The two of them are more than a little codependent actually. Blue tries to be more levelheaded about their relationship, but it's not easy to be. They're both quite young, for outcodes, and neither one has ever had a partner like this before. If they had any time to settle down, they would be able to work through it and be a little healthier about it, but as it is, Dream has to constantly protect the multiverse from Nightmare, and Blue has to constantly protect Dream from Nightmare.

Blueberror makes Blue viscerally uncomfortable, but he tries not to let that color his interactions with him.

Fatal's origins are a bit different in this multiverse than in his canon, but rest assured he still wants to kick Error's ass. Double G comes from the same inciting incident as Fatal, but has something else completely going on. He goes around interrupting the genocide scripts he finds (Ink is constantly trying to get him to stop). If he stumbles across a timeline that Fatal has interfered with, he regards the glitching aftermath fondly. He can't remember why exactly.

I think everyone else's relationships are either as expected, or not all that relevant to this specific story. None of Geno's relationships happen right away, especially not his relationship with Murder, but I had to tease that found family >:3

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[circe69]

“𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭“ - 𝐫.𝐬 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬!𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 🕯️

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ who is it? - ryomen sukuna x plus!fem reader

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ what is it? - academic rivals, true enemies to dirty lovers, smut, unprotected p in v, reader gets called "princess", sukuna's tatted, mentions of fatphobia, reader is insecure, but sukuna's down bad, needs those thick thighs, "fuck it" moment, he's a jealous lover.

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ wc & an? - 3.2k, hi guys!!!! valentines special a little late? sry. enjoy.

"The class project will be graded on length, presentation, grammar-"

You tune out your teacher. This was the last period of the day. You were almost free. A smutty book, an iced coffee, and a quiet environment was waiting for you at home. Almost-

"And how well you work with your partner."

A quiet chatter broke out amongst the students around you. This was one of the biggest projects of the year, and from everything you'd heard from previous graduates, it was done independently.

"Yes, yes, I know. This is a new development," your teacher answered, "For this project, I will assign you to a partner. This partner," she emphasized, "is extremely important. You will spend hours upon hours with this person to complete the project. Are we clear?"

The class agrees in unison. As the teacher started rambling off names of who all would be paired up, you watched as multiple students either silently cheered or grimaced at their chosen partner.

"Last but not least, Y/N, you will be with,"

You crossed your fingers and squeezed your eyes shut.

"Ryomen. Sukuna."

Oh fuck no.

What the fu-

"Absolutely the fuck not," a loud, dark voice boomed from the back of the class.

And there he was. The bane of your existence, Ryomen Sukuna, standing up in retaliation. That pink fucking hair in all it's glory, dark tattoos marking almost every inch of skin, and that stupid letterman jacket he's always wearing.

"No way in hell I'll be with her," he exclaimed, his friends around him laughing. You turned around to look him in the eyes, and just as you figured, they were empty.

Sukuna was an all-star athlete. A basketball champion, the top of his class, a total knock-out. Everyone either wanted him or wanted to be him. He was technically perfect. Tall. Muscular. Fast. Smart.

Handsome.

Sure, you had a few wet dreams about him, every girl did. But you were you, shorter, quieter, chubbier, and couldn't play sports to save your life. He didn't give a fuck about you, but it's not like you even cared. You had something that he didn't.

Social fucking ettiequte.

The teacher took off her glasses and set them on her desk, "Partners are final, and so is this grade. No retakes, remakes or extra credit. Class on Monday begins the work period."

The bell rang, and everyone scurried out of class.

"It's not going to be that bad," your friend Cassie said across from the lunch table you were sitting at, "Yeah he's a complete dickhead, but you've dealt with worse! Remember Megumi from the first grade?"

All the girls around you groaned, "Bitch, he bit my fucking arm!" You laughed while Cassie shrugged.

"Look, all I know is that there's a nasty rumor going around that Sukuna only wants to be seen with thinner girls. Toned and skinny. And I mean," you paused to motion your hand down your body, "have you seen me? It's going to be a nightmare."

Another one of your friends, Nyla, speaks up, "First of all, you are not fat. You are curvy, got all the right stuff in the right places. Second of all, none of this even truly matters because you would've gotten an A if you'd been by yourself, you're definitely gonna ace it even with a little extra help."

You take a deep breath. Maybe it was going to be okay. I mean, it wouldn't be a walk in the park, but maybe Sukuna's misunderstood. Maybe nobody's given him a chance. He might even help you with this project, give you some great insight.

Misunderstood, my ass, you thought as you sat down reluctantly next to Sukuna. You slung your bag over the back of you chair and pulled out a pink notebook before flipping it open to a blank page. You expected him to say something, but silence filled the air between you as a clock ticked in the background.

You cleared your throat, "Alright, obviously there's no need for introductions since you've made it clear you are not fond of me," your words and peppery tone forced Sukuna to look up from the video game he was playing on his laptop. "And assuming this is a relatively safe space, I don't like you either. Never have. Quite frankly, you're a piece of shit."

Sukuna's eyes widened at your words before nervously chuckling and looking away. He leans close to you, and a strong scent of dark cologne wafts to you, "Do you really think I fucking care? Care about this class, care about you, care about any of this?" He whispered.

You smile sinisterly and whisper back, "It is literally so obvious that you don't care. Please, stop wasting your breath."

He rubs a hand down his face, laughing at just how fucking insane it is, the way you talk to him. All of the sudden, Sukuna raises a hand.

"Yes Ryomen?" Your teacher says.

He clears his throat, "Yeah, I was wondering if me and Y/N could actually go use one of the study rooms? We're getting a little distracted in here."

She sighed, "Yes, that's fine. Go ahead."

Sukuna jumped up, not even looking behind him to see if you were following. As the two of you exited the hallway, you tried to keep up with his long strides.

"Look, I don't know what your plan is, but it's probably a waste of time and this project isn't going to ace itse-"

Sukuna stopped and spun around, causing you to run right into his chest. You took a step back and leaned up to look him in his eyes. He pointed at the open conference room and whispered, "We are going to go inside that room, lock the door, and speak like civilized people. We're gonna work on the project, feel good about it, and leave early, because I have a party to go to tonight," your huff of annoyed laughter interrupted him, "That sound like a plan?"

You laughed as you walked into the room and turned on the lights, "Sure, Dad. Whatever."

Sukuna threw his books onto the table, "Damn it, you are so fucking annoying."

"What happened to civilized?" You rebutted, rounding the table while taking slow steps toward him.

"Oh, that went out the window the second I heard your name come outta our teacher's mouth, bitch."

The room went silent, Sukuna's breath hitched, your eyes saw red.

"The fuck did you just say?" You asked, taking a step closer to him.

He didn't know what to expect, what to say, he knew he just fucked up. But there was no going back now, and in his head, fucking up even more was his only option. Sukuna straightened his back and crossed his arms across his chest. Your toes were touching his, bodies too close, breath intertwining, but he leaned closer anyways, "I called you a bitch."

You shoved him. Hard. Against the wall behind him. A picture frame shook before falling on the floor. Sukuna made no reaction.

For some reason, tears started welling behind your eyes. Why was he so mean? Why did he have so many comebacks lined up? Why were you entertaining it? Why do you wish he was touching you back, even if it meant he'd hurt you?

You shoved again, this time a grunt escaped you. But his arms stayed in place, never reaching out. His body barely even moved from your force. What was happening? Why was the silent tension between you thick enough to cut into pieces? Your hands against his rough chest burned his skin through his clothes, and every singe screamed, "You shouldn't have said that."

As you shoved for a third time, and as a small cry came from your mouth in frustration, Sukuna's eyes changed. Even though you couldn't see it, every part of his body tensed and relaxed at the sight of your body failing itself. He could see you breaking down, and everyone around him would've told him to wind you up more. To enjoy it.

Before he could say anything else, you looked him in the eyes, "Fuck you," you spat, and grabbed your books before heading out of the conference room.

"Come to the party with us," Cassie said to you in the mirror as you watched her curl her hair. "It'll be fun! We'll get drinks, and dance, and you don't even have to stay for a long time. Say the word and I'll take you home."

It did sound appealing. The idea of a buzz, something to take your mind off of everything, loud music, wearing something cute, maybe talking to a guy.

Fuck it.

"Okay, fine. I'll go."

Cassie gasped, "Are you serious? Really?"

You nodded, and she squealed in delight, "Oh my gosh, I'll call Nyla. She's gonna freak. out." You laughed as she dialed in a few numbers in her phone. As Cassie held the phone up to her ear, you could hear the tone ringing, and Cassie whispered over her shoulder, "Go get dressed already!"

You forgot why you never used to go to parties, until you got to this one. Everything was so overstimulating, from the lights, to the smells, even your thighs sticking to every chair you sat on made it worse.

But you looked good. You knew it, and it had been a long time since you let yourself acknowledge it. A black mini dress that hugged all your curves, and lacy little thigh-highs. You were a goddess, a vision.

And every one seemed to agree. Especially Sukuna's friends.

"Damn, did you see the ass on her?" A white-haired basketball player nudged Sukuna's arm while talking to the rest of the team. As he turned around to see who he was talked about, he almost spit out his drink.

Fuck.

There you were.

Dancing underneath a blue beam of light, with your arms around your friends neck, your sweet hips swaying to the music. It was almost as if he could hear your raspy voice from where he stood, smell your vanilla perfume and sweet-like-cherries hair.

That dress was sinful. It was too tight, too short, too much for Sukuna to even handle, and suddenly, he could feel his blood turn hot at the thought that every single guy in this room is thinking the same thing.

Unfortunately, he was the last person you'd wanna hear it from.

He had always had a thing for you. Your kind words and quiet tone (to everyone but him) along with your overall angel-like appearance, the equation was sickeningly sweet. For years and years, he lifted up silent prayers to God that you'd be in his class the next semester. And they were always answered, only for him to never ever speak to you. So when the teacher said that you were going to be partners, he couldn't believe his ears. He had one chance, and he fucked it up, all because he didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, that the love he had for one girl was only met with hatred.

But as he made his way over to you, he ignored the blaring sirens in his head, all the thoughts that kept him up at night, all he heard was you.

Sukuna was right behind you, inches away. But he didn't want to touch you, not yet. He waited until you turned around and watched your eyes widen at the sight of him.

In this light, he was majestic, and you hated him for it.

The white tee shirt and dark-wash jeans were adding no help to your case, and a pair of black aviators rested upon his head. Every muscle, ridge, even the veins in his forearms, you wanted it all. And maybe it was the drinks, or maybe you were just so done denying it. You had always denied it.

He leaned down, "What are you doing here?"

You looked him in the eyes, "I'm dancing."

The song changed and lights faded to a deep red, and while bodies swirled around you, both you and Sukuna remained steady.

"I can see that." He cleared his throat and scanned his eyes down your figure, "Can practically see your whole ass, y'know."

"What d'you care, hm?"

You could see his molars grind against each other, his adams apple bobbing from a swallow. Just then, another guy comes up behind you and swirls an arm around your waist, "Hey, wanna dance?" You look at your suitor and smile slightly, so excited to see how this is going to play out.

"She's busy," Sukuna growled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Doesn't look like she's busy to me." The man's arm slithered away from your waist and moved so his hand was resting on your hip.

Sukuna was about to kill every single person at this party.

His inked hand reached out to your wrist and tugged you into his side, "Yeah well doesn't matter what it looks like, dumbass, she's fucking busy."

The strange man's hand on your hip was exchanged for Sukunas. The touch of his hand, something you'd thought of for years, dreamt of for longer, had finally reached you. And you hated how much it felt like something you'd been searching for forever.

"Sukuna," you shrieked, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He turned to face you, "Me? What's wrong with me?" His hand squeezed the flesh of your skin subconsciously.

"C'mere," he dragged you to the nearest bathroom, fleeing between bodies and furniture pushed to the side. He opened the door, and gently pushed you inside, shutting it behind him.

He didn't even bother to turn on the lights. You were surrounded by darkness, with the only exception being the strobe lights coming from under the door.

Sukuna's arm was still around your frame, but now, it feels different. Like he wants it to be there.

"You," he starts as his hands travel up and down your hips, "are so fucking distracting."

You can't see his eyes, but you know what they look like. They're not empty anymore. They're yearning, tired of waiting, impatient and hungry.

Sukuna backs you up against the bathroom counter, "So you're gonna have to forgive me for acting out of line out there, and at school, and all my life," his hand reached up to cup the back of your neck, "it's the least you can do for fucking me up."

And that was all you remembered before you felt his lips on yours. As violent as he was born, as scary as you thought he was, his tongue was gentle and forgiving as it pried between your lips. You couldn't help but let out a whimper before breaking the kiss.

"Wait, but I thought you didn't like heavier girls-"

"Who the fuck told you that, sweetheart?" He said against your mouth. You shrugged in response, "Just rumors, I guess."

"You guess?" He whispered as he kissed down your neck, and back up to nibble on your earlobe, "You guess wrong. Very fucking wrong." Sukuna bit the soft spot on your neck and his hands traveled down to knead the fat of your ass, "These hips were made for me, baby. Made for my hands, made for my mouth and teeth. Mine. All mine, Y'hear me?"

You nodded as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him into you, enveloping his lips with yours. This time, his kiss is harsh and jealous. His tongue licked against yours in fervor, the sound of teeth occasionally clashing only made you pull on his hair more.

"Fuck, I'm sorry for shoving you that one time." You whispered into his mouth before kissing him again. Sukuna dragged the two of you to the floor. "That shit turns me on, precious," he said as he pulled your dress over your head. He growled at the sight of your full tits bouncing free from the fabric. All that was left on your skin was a skimpy thongs and thigh highs.

"Mm, fuck you and these fucking thighs. Look at what you do to me." He said as he shed himself from the shirt and pants, "Making me go insane."

Sukuna lowered himself over you, spreading your thighs apart with his own. The cold air hitting your pussy was a reminder of just how wet you were, soaking the fabric of your panties. A groan tore itself from your throat as he bent down to lick one of your nipples.

"Yes, oh- mmph," you moaned as his teeth grazed the bud, "Need you, please, needed you for so long."

"I know baby, I know,"

That's all it took for Sukuna to free his cock from his boxers. And from the looks of it, you were absolutely fucked.

It was huge, bigger than any dick you'd ever taken in the past, with a patch of pink hair around the base of him. His lips reached down to take yours in a deep kiss as he guided himself to your entrance.

"Fuck," you whispered as you felt the tip of him notch inside you, "It's b-big, Sukuna."

He slides in another inch while thumbing at your swollen clit, "Damn, you're gonna call me that while you're taking my b-big cock?" He mocked, but then reached down to kiss one cheek, than the other, "You can do it, princess - f-fuck - Get there with me."

Once he was fully seated inside of you, you could feel the tip of him just kiss your cervix every time he thrusted. "Fuck, fuck Ryo', feels good." You moaned while fisting his hair, "I like that, baby, say it again."

"Ryooo', you groaned, you felt your climax approaching faster then you expected. A fire was lit underneath your belly and every word that poured from Sukuna's mouth was a douse of gasoline.

"Mmph, these tits - fuck - that pussy, everything about you. You feel so fucking good."

An overwhelming urge to come came over you, as well as a strange feeling, something you'd never felt before, and with every hit his dick gave your cervix, the feeling only grew stronger.

"F-feels weird, Ryo', it's too much, feels like m' gonna- oh fuck."

Sukuna could feel it too, the way your walls rippled against his length every second that passed, your breath was speeding up, your voice was giving out. "Fuck, so pretty, let it out baby, milk my cock. You wanna do that? Spray me baby, I don't give a fuck."

At his words, the cord finally released and snapped. You were coming, and hard, while gushing on his dick. "Fuckkkk, so- so good."

"Where do you want it, princess?" He asked as his thrusts turned frantic and untimed. "Inside. Please. On the pill."

His balls tightened as he came, "M'cummin, cumming so hard," Sukuna warned as he released his load inside of you.

"Fucking hell, I should've done this sooner," Sukuna said into the crook of your neck. The sound of panting and shallow breathing flooded around you.

"Well, if you weren't such an dick maybe you could've."

He playfully smacked your ass in response, and you laughed at the notion.

"What a funny story to tell our kids, huh?"

"Kids? Ryo, we have to at least finish this fucking project first."

"Shit, I completely forgot about that if we're being honest."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Rude."

"Well, if you help me out, I guess I could have a kid or two of yours."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[alluramiura]

“𝒾𝓃 ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝒹𝓈, 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓇 𝓉ℴ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓉ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊” ｜se-mi x reader

summary: you save se-mi during lights out.

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: lowercase intended, death description, 124 dies, se-mi lives, mentions of youngmi’s death (💔), reader is an implied foreigner

authors note: i was going to post something abt hyunju but i remembered how se-mi died and i got mad all over again. minsu you’re a fucking coward. enjoy.

you met se-mi after the first game, before six-legged pentathlon. you talked a few times, the first time being when you two agreed to team up. after the agreement, she proposed the idea to split up and search for more teammates.

a few minutes later, you found two players willing to join you; hyunju and youngmi. when you found her again, she had found four other players.

before you could say anything, one of the men behind her spoke up.

“who’s this, se-mi? the limit is five. we have all of our members.” he says, so quietly you almost can’t hear him. he was standing the closest to se-mi, and you notice his number is 125.

your eyes flicker to his for a second before flickering back to se-mi, who looks like she was about to give you an apology before another one of the men speaks, quite loudly.

“who’s this chick?” a man with purple hair—“thanos“— steps forward to address you directly.

“oooh, i see what’s happening. you want to join the amazing thanos’ team, huh? we are sadly out of room, señorita. but come to me next round, yeah?”

you stare at him blankly before turning back to se-mi. “it’s okay. i found a few people. you can stay with your group.”

she nods hesitantly, and you give her a faint smile before turning to return to the two players you found, who have now found two more players.

after the second game, you spoke again, a little before voting.

you opened up about your situation, how you were still relatively new to life in seoul, and how it’s been rougher than you imagined it would be, especially with the whole death game thing.

she sat and listened, nodding softly as you explained the last few months of your life to her.

she spoke about her situation a little as well. she didn’t say much, just that going back to her life was as good as staying here would be.

hearing that, you shouldn’t have felt as shocked, almost betrayed as you did when you saw her with the small “O” patched onto her jacket.

you knew you really had no right to be upset—everyone was here for a reason, some reasons being worse than the others, and her singular vote would have changed nothing regardless—but you couldn’t help but think of how the majority of players would choose money over fellow human life, her being one of them.

you try not to let her see how much the thought bothers you, but she seems to catch on almost immediately.

“are you upset that i chose to continue?” she asked, a bit suddenly, after noticing you’ve barely said anything and had been avoiding her gaze.

“…i’m not upset at you directly. i just…wanted to go home really bad.” you mutter softly, fidgeting with your necklace.

she hums in acknowledgement, and what seems like understanding.

“i wish i felt the same way.”

the next time you talk to her after that was during the third game.

mingle was probably the most stressful for you. you stayed with youngmi and the rest of your designated group for the most part.

that is, until youngmi died.

seeing her lifeless body covered in blood changed something within you.

when the farris wheel stopped spinning once more, you almost didn’t move. however, you suddenly felt the strong urge to make it out of here alive, if not for yourself, then for the friends, family you found here that might not make it along the way.

when you saw se-mi again, she was alone, looking around frantically for another person after the number two was called out.

you first noticed that she wasn’t with her team, but you pushed that thought away as you rushed towards her, grabbing her arm and sprinting to an empty room.

once you were in the room with the door shut, you pressed your back against the wall, catching your breath.

after a few seconds of silence and heavy breathing, se-mi speaks up, her voice hoarse and breathy.

“thank you.”

hearing that, you look up at her before nodding, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the wall.

“you’re welcome.”

when you left the room, you noticed she stayed near you and your group instead of with the people she was with before.

you didn’t mind.

the final time you talked to her before lights out was after the second vote.

when you saw she voted “X��, you were almost as shocked as you were seeing her vote the first time.

you didn’t ask what changed her mind, however. instead, you asked her what happened with her team.

“they…they’re assholes. i should’ve known from the start.” she mumbles, sighing softly.

you two spoke a little more, and you told her about your newfound motivation to make it out no matter what, after witnessing the death of your friend.

you shed a few tears thinking of youngmi. you didn’t know her for long, but like many other people you met here, you formed a bond you knew you’d never have with anyone else you’d ever meet.

se-mi gently put a hand on your shoulder as you cried silently, her expression grim.

you stayed with her for the remainder of the time before lights out.

now, as everyone’s killing one another and the scent of copper fills the air, you run around frantically looking for a place to hide.

you were climbing to the top of one of the bunk beds when you heard a familiar voice.

a shriek.

you look behind you, and a few feet away stood player 124, standing over se-mi with a bloodied fork in hand, looking like he was ready to attack.

that same feeling you got seeing youngmi die suddenly came back full force, and before you even realized it, you had hopped off the latter and began running towards the two.

as you approached, you locked eyes with se-mi as she struggled to fight him off.

suddenly, a glass bottle shatters, causing you to step back, and namgyu to pause his murderous actions, looking up to find the person who threw it.

while he’s distracted, you grab a shard of the glass and jab it into his his shoulder from behind.

namgyu lets out a pained cry as the glass pierces his shoulder. in an instant, he swivels around, backhanding you in the face.

you hit the ground pretty hard, feeling blood trickle down your nose. your vision was slightly blurred and you were disarrayed, your hand pressing against your temple where you initially hit the ground.

se-mi’s eyes widen, a strangled gasp leaving her lips as she watches you fall to the ground. adrenaline fuels her as she takes the opportunity to scramble to her feet, kicking namgyu in his side.

he doubles over slightly, but quickly recovers as he takes another step towards se-mi.

to her surprise, you get back on your feet, gripping the shard of glass so hard that blood runs down your wrist as you charge at namgyu again.

her heart racing, she joins fray in a flurry of limbs and desperation, punching and kicking wherever she could. namgyu was strong, however, and he managed to dodge all of your messily aimed attempts at stabbing him, his own adrenaline surging.

he suddenly grabs se-mi’s wrist forcefully, slamming her against the wall and raising his fork over his head, preparing to stab se-mi in the neck.

“no!” you shriek, balancing yourself and locking your blurry vision onto namgyu before charging at him a final time, stabbing him in the back harshly.

you don’t stop after the first stab, continuing to drill the glass into his back repeatedly, his blood splattering all over your shirt and skin.

he screams out in pain, staggering as his strength slowly leaves his body.

it’s only when he hits the ground, choking on his own blood as it pools around him when you realize what you’ve done, your hands shaking as you look down at the blood covering your hands.

you almost feel sick knowing it’s not just your own.

if someone told you a week ago that you’d become a murderer trying to protect yourself and your loved ones in a death game you’d blindly signed up for, you’d call a psychiatrist.

you drop the glass, trembling as you slowly look up at se-mi, tears beginning to stream down your face.

se-mi quickly runs over to you, her heart pounding in her chest. she grabs your face, holding it in her hands as she checks for any fatal injuries.

when she sees that you don’t have any major wounds, she pulls you into a tight hug.

you wrap your arms around se-mi as you bury your face into her neck, sobbing as the reality sinks in of what you’ve just done.

she kept her arms caged around you protectively, as she looks around to make sure no one else tries to attack you two.

“it’s okay. you’re okay. i got you.” she whispers, her own voice wavering as she rubs your back, attempting to comfort you for the second time that day, only under completely different circumstances.

“i-it all happened so fast…” you cry out, clinging onto se-mi like a lifeline. “h-he was trying to kill you, se-mi…i had to…i had to.”

“shhh…it’s alright. you saved me.” she murmurs, slowly guiding you to a nearby corner, hidden in the shadows from the chaos. she doesn’t once let you go, her eyes scanning the room for any immediate danger as the lights flicker.

after a while, she pulls back, gently tilting your head up so you could look at her. her thumb brushes away the tears streaming down your face, her touch tender.

"you're safe now. it's over."

[bronze-and-silver-keys]

Who had the most valid crashout in any of the Danganronpa games?

Either Hajime or Shuichi in their final chapters

Can you fucking imagine, for Hajime,

Going through a killing game of Ultimates and having NO IDEA why you're there because you can't remember your talent

Watching eleven of your classmates die brutally, half of them your own fault because it was either you or them, with zero experience of investigating dead bodies, let alone the bodies of people you were becoming friends with

Being constantly afraid that each breath could be your last surrounded by total strangers that could gut you at any second

Finding out that you don't have a talent and your parents paid an arm and a leg for you to go to a school even near Ultimates, volunteered for human experimentation with PARENT PERMISSION where you were experimented on and lobotomized to the point where your entire person was destroyed and replaced, forced to live in an isolated room, get broken out by the girl who ended the fucking world who asks you to watch with a bucket full of popcorn, be fawned over by a bunch of former Ultimates turned Despairs that are actively killing people and destroying the world

And THEN this random guy from the cohort below you tells you that the only way to SAVE THE WORLD is to go BACK to your lobotomized state and completely lose yourself all over again?

I'd tell Makoto to fuck off and die too.

OR

Imagine being Shuichi, thrown into a killing game that turns into the worst and most stressful round of exposure therapy you've ever had in your LIFE

Watching the one person you trusted, and who believed in you, kill someone and be brutally executed for it because you proved that she did it

Having to go through the same cycle every few days of someone being murdered, investigating the bodies of your classmates, unraveling the world's most complex murder schemes and sending another one of your classmates and friends to their gorey death

Be trauma flashbanged every few days with memories that a) you and your classmates were being hunted for sport, b) there was a funeral held for all of you, c) meteors were coming down at the same rate that killed the dinosaurs, d) the outside world has been fucking obliterated, e) youre all on a space ship and are possibly the only survivors of humanity, and f) one of your classmates that has been sus as hell was an underling of the girl that started the end of the world

Cool okay that's a lot to process, but THEN while your friend is destroying the space ship you're all on -- which will 100% result in everyone dying -- you find history books that don't add up with your memories, and THEN youre thrown into another trial to clear the name of your friend who was already executed

And THEN in that trial the mastermind, who was probably the girl you suspected the LEAST, tells you that NOTHING is real, everything was scripted, and you're not even a real person which is almost worse than the world being destroyed

I would've let Maki kill everyone

[sunrisecaminus]

Ultra Magnus x Government Agent Reader SFW

Summary - Ultra Magnus falls in love with an human Agent after realizing she has a sweet side to her personality.

Warnings: Light Hurt/Comfort

Never have you ever thought you would be seeing real aliens when you first met the Autobots. Being one of the Agents from the US Government, you were assigned to see if Agent Fowler was doing his freaking job. That man has not gotten anything done to defeat the Decepticons that are trying to destroy the world. Now, you have been best friends with Fowler ever since college, but dang from what you have been hearing from your boss, he has been getting lazier and lazier. It was your job to see if he should be fired or not and get a replacement.

After a few months at the base, you have realized two things. One, the Autobots don't have enough recourses to even kill one Decepticon. Two, Fowler has been working his ass off for everyone to survive. Optimus was very kind to you when you arrived and introduced everyone to you. Ultra Magnus was professional, but you can tell he did not like your presence. The US government have been yelling at them about sitting on their afts, while also not providing anything for their survival. He has been warned by Fowler and Prime that humans don't understand what they were going through and so they will be very uncooperative if the bots even tried to explain themselves. "Prime sir, we should not be having anymore interference with these human leaders. Non of them have even came up once to listen to reason." He stared at Optimus with a pleading look, he didn't like to be similar to Ratchet, but he understood why Ratchet hated almost all humans. Optimus looked up from the data pad and gave him a stern look. "Ultra Magnus, I understand your lack of faith my friend, but you have to remember the humans that have helped us so far. Agent Fowler is one of the reasons we have not been kicked from this planet, the children have saved our lives, and Agent Y/n is here to help us get more supplies from the human's government if we give her reason that we are efficient enough."

Ultra Magnus hated that Optimus was right, but he was a bit suspicious of the last sentence. "I am sorry sir, but Agent y/n has not even once reported to the government in three month. I don't think we are up to her standards at all." Optimus closes his eyes to think. Magnus was right about that, you have not been really doing anything around the base except observe everyone's movements and work. Hell Ratchet has been quite annoyed by your presence since he has to stay at the base for most of the missions. He is holding on to you though, giving you hope. Only one person has been supportive of you, and that was Fowler. He told Optimus whole stories about you saving his sorry ass from college professors all the time. He told him many stories of you supporting him and even giving him a place to stay when he needed it the most. Fowler has said though you were a calculated person, and never really showed your emotions a lot. It was hard to tell if you are being nice or just straight cold. "We shall see Ultra Magnus, though I cannot confirm if she is as troubling as you say. I will talk to Agent Fowler once more, so please look over the kids."

When Optimus walked off, Magnus stayed around to make sure Miko wasn't going to prank Ratchet and helped Ralph with any questions he had about Cybertron. He than starts to hear the clicking of heels from the elevator. You had a clip board in hand and was already writing something down. Your h/c (hair color) hair looked all neat and your outfit seemed nice and custom made. Walking over to Ratchet, you ask for his latest findings from last night's mission and both of you started to talk about work. Honestly if Ratchet had a scale for which human was more annoying, you were probably around in the middle. He was able to keep a conversation with you, but from far away he would grumble about things he didn't like that you did. After a few minutes you walked over to Ralph and Ultra Magnus. You stood behind the couch and watched as Ralph was making a nice online form about his cultural findings. Of course, it wasn't public for other humans to see, but if he ever forgot about something he could always click over to his notes and see what he put down. "Ah, you are doing so well Ralph. Although you spells that wrong, the symbol you put down actually has a small line going across the bottom." You pointed out something on Ralph's computer and he gasps. "Oh crap! Your right! Dang I thought I studied that!" Magnus sees you smile for the first time. "Oh it's ok. It's impressive to see you learn so much already after only a week. Better than what I could do."

After you turn around, walking back to the railing from across the base to keep writing in your clip board, Magnus looks at Ralph confused. "What were you and Agent y/n talking about?" Ralph looks up at Magnus and shares his screen for him to see. "Oh? Y/n is teaching me how to read your alphabet! She knows a lot about Iaconian and helped me learn so I can surprise Optimus later! Don't tell him though." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. You knew Iaconian?! When did you have the time to learn such a difficult language?! Magnus couldn't help, but be flabbergasted by the fact you took the time to learn Iaconian and finally had enough. Did you like them or not? Why were you not reporting to your bosses and why haven't you left yet? You were only here to stay for a week…why haven't you left yet? He was getting to the bottom of it one way for another. He excuses himself and walks over to you. You see that a shadow surrounds your body and looks up. "Oh, good evening Ultra Magnus." You put your pen away and stood up straight to give your full attention to him. Magnus narrows his eyes and leans down just a smidge to be a bit closure to your frame. Look he may not like you, but at the very least he did not like intimidating people who are not Decepticons. "I need to speak with you Agent y/n. You have been keeping secrets from Prime and the rest of us, but now all of sudden you are learning Iaconian? What is your motivation?"

The smile that grew on your face made him a bit taken a back by the reaction. The smile looked nice on you, but he wasn't going to tell you that. "I have been monitoring everyone's work so I can give a long report to the government if they should give you their energon findings." WHAT?! The government had not only supplies, but they had the one resource they have been dying to get this whole time?! He clenched his hands into fists and looked angry. "You have energon is your procession? That stuff is useless for your species. Why didn't you report us being useful sooner. We could use those energon cubes to help give us more energy to fight for your planet." Before he could get even more angry, you put a hand up to shut him up. "Do not worry, I have already reported to them about you all working your hardest even with such little food. They needed a better report from me just in case you were pretending to be efficient for a week, so they have extended my stay for five months. At the end of my stay I will be in a very important meeting with all the higher ups to give my findings. Then they will happily give you all the crates they have by helicopter or by truck, just matters how much they are willing to give you." He could not believe this right now. This was the worse news he could get from you and he is trying not to go ape shit. "I understand this could be frustrating right now, but understand I am trying to poke them as much as I can to give you what you need. All of you have past the bar. In my book I would have given you everything by now after the first week. Right now I can't do anything but listen to their orders so you can be granted free supplies. Oh, and Optimus told me about where he lived back on Cybertron, I was curious about your culture so I had Bumblebee and Ralph help me learn. I am now known as one of the only human translators for Cybertronians and Humans. Luckily it seems you all already know English, though I would not have minded to be your spokes person."

This kind of made his anger fade…Your voice was not cold to him anymore. It seemed…sweet. This was the most care he has heard from you and it made him feel things he didn't want to feel. "W-well I appreciate you trying your best from what you have." Did he just stutter?! Oh Primus no, he needs to control himself. Why was he feeling such lovely feelings for you now?! He was just pissed a moment ago! You snapped him out of his staring and giggled. "Awe you are too kind. I need to go to Fowler now. I will see you before you all charge for the night, ok?" He nods and watches you leave. Your laugh was so cute. He needs to stop himself from feeling this way before he says something he is going to regret.

...

Bonus: Ratchet glares at Ultra Magnus while he scans him. "So a professional lady who works at the top has taken an interest in our species, her personality is a sweet yet serious person who gets the work done before she does anything else?" Sighing, Ratchet grabs his data pad and walks over to Ultra Magnus who looks at him for an answer to his condition. "You are not sick, you are just an idiot who fell in love with a fleshy."

[marscardigan]

paper rings

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: on valentine’s day, you dig in the box where you saved all ellie’s sweet details.

cw: none! just tooth-rotting fluff. just wanted to write something cute for todayy so here it is <3

When Ellie Williams falls in love, she falls hard.

It’s not like that happened often, and not everyone could meet her soft side -especially the one where she is a total loser.

But when it came to love you, for Ellie, it was as easy as breathing. But it was complicates for her to express her feelings verbally, that is why since she met you, she showed you her love with everything else. Today was February fourteen, Valentine's Day. And she couldn’t be with you to spend the day, because she was on a long patrol trip.

When the sun set, you started missing your girlfriend more than usual, because by that time Ellie would be home, lying in bed rambling about her day, tracing patterns on your back with her cold fingers. So, instead of getting all sad and mopey, you got up and grabbed the box that was always on top of your bookshelf, a box that was meticulously decorated by herself.

You grabbed it and went back to the bed, where you opened it. The first thing that you saw was a pile of postcards that Ellie gifted you from everywhere she'd been. You had one from San Francisco, New York, Alabama, Boston... You still don't know how she finds them.

A soft laugh left your lips when you saw a couple of notes from when you first started talking. God, you remember it too well, even if it had been almost a year.

You'd always known Ellie from afar, and you weren't blind, she was a smart girl, funny, awkward, strong, and a lesbian. You were surprised the girls didn't throw themselves at her, but then again. You tried to flirt with her, complimenting the most stupid thing, but she didn't seem to notice.

It wasn't until her birthday that something clicked between the two of you. Ellie's personality changes a lot, depending on the people she's with. When Dina told her about your crush towards her, she suddenly lost all her knowledges about talking. She went all shy, and started leaving you silly notes on your porch by the end of the day.

From your hair looks pretty today, to everyone deserves someone like you in their lives, or I still fall in love with you every day.

Lots of sketches were inside that box, too. Ellie loved drawing you, making you tiny poems that at first she was too ashamed to let you see, but with time she learned to show you her most delicate parts of herself, the ones you especially loved the most.

Digging up some more, you found a Polaroid of the two of you kissing, your eyes closed and Ellie's smile shinning. Your eyes threatened to let tears out when you grabbed two paper rings, still sticky from the glue, that Ellie made you for your first month together. She broke one before giving them to you, and she was so sad you had to fix it together.

One thing about Ellie as your girlfriend is that she remembers everything. She never forgets a face. So when one day on patrol you pointed out a poster of your favorite artist with pure excitement, she remembered, and for almost two months she'd been searching for the perfect mix of songs from them to gave it to you, with all the songs that reminded her of you too.

The next day, when Ellie came back home, she found your sleepy figure curled up inside the bed, with the box still by your side, and a letter she wrote between your hands.

She smiled at the view, and woke you up, peppering kisses on your cheeks, and hiding the bouquet of flowers she picked herself behind her. She was such a sap, but you loved it. You loved every part of her.

[raine-dance]

Tbh Red vs Blue didn't really intend to lean too far into the dissociative lens with Leonard Church as far as I can tell. He's an AI that's a reconstruction of a real person, through the use of brain-mapping technology. Church, the AI, became a system through... conventional traumatic means, and that's almost where they leave it in terms of direct reference to the disorder. But it's still interesting to look at things within that lens, and while I do eventually intend to collect my thoughts into a video essay, I think I'd like to share one train of thought here because I think it's legitimately interesting.

Everyone knows about the cliché of the murderous alter. Red vs Blue's most notable example is Sigma. Now I know that on this sentence alone, many would criticise me calling Church the best DID representation I've seen in media, especially given that they also misnomer the disorder as MPD, but I think Sigma is the most interesting example of the trope, because he actually has something to say about the treatment of those with dissociative disorders.

For one, I think that character context is important. Church (as in Alpha) was created to be a murder machine - the Director would force Church to split and extract the new split into its own AI unit, given to Freelancers with the express purpose of making them more effective soldiers. Almost everyone in the series is a killer, although some are more effective than others, and nowhere is this description more applicable than Project Freelancer.

With that in mind, the Freelancers were given seminars on the workings of AI - in the series, an AI fragment might try to "metastabilise," or reconnect with other fragments of the same AI, to achieve a sense of wholeness. If I recall, AI were supposed to remain inactive for these seminars, but Agent Maine was fond of Sigma due to Sigma's ability to act as a mouthpiece for him after an injury, and Sigma was made aware of the concept of "metastability." As such, he decided that he wanted to achieve metastability, and this decision kicks off the vast majority of RvB's plot.

There are many things getting in the way of Sigma's plan, however, and first and foremost is the fact that all of the other AI fragments have been allotted to other Freelancer agents. While there may have been a conflict of interest for Maine, Sigma had a clear goal in mind, and was ultimately conditioned to achieve it - the AI units were made to kill, and this is a large part of why he proceeds with his plan.

So, why am I mentioning this? I'm not just here to defend this writing decision, I said this plotline had something to say about the treatment of systems, and it does, either intentionally, or, more likely, not - first, it deals with how the world surrounding systems form how they react to the issues the world involves them in, something that is true of not only us, but of everyone. Second, it challenges the idea that final fusion is the healthiest and only acceptable treatment for systems.

The only reason Sigma strives for something analogous to final fusion is because he was told by someone who should be an expert that this is the only way forward for him. The only way to achieve, in direct quote, "humanity," a goal he had already been striving for. And the tragic thing is that he believed that this was the case when the viewer looking at the show through a dissociative lens already knows it isn't, both in real life, and in the series.

Church, as in the Alpha AI, and later Epsilon, is one of the most human characters in the show. He's a lot of things - a bit arrogant, very brash, and often pissed off, but he cares about his friends, and does everything in his power to help them succeed, even sacrificing himself as Epsilon for them. He was human once, and as an AI, is a reconstruction of that former humanity, and he still manages to retain it. As Epsilon, he achieves functional multiplicity until the plot forces him to go through final fusion to save his friends, and the act, in the timeline of Seasons 15-18, at least, literally kills him.

The treatment of systems matters so much to me. And despite starting out as a crass comedy show about the shittiest soldiers in the galaxy, with the relevant seasons having released 13 years ago, the series still manages to treat us with more respect and challenge more issues relating to how society treats us than most, if not all media that deems us interesting enough to be plot-relevant does now. I have a lot of thoughts about it all, and whenever I feel like it, I'll probably write more about it. Thanks for reading, if you did make it this far, I'm just rambling and all, but if this matters even half as much to someone else as it does to me, that makes me happy.

[craziertogether]

thinking about mike & will

first off happy valentine’s day! now onto another yap session. i sometimes find myself wondering why i’m so obsessed with byler. it might be because i have a tendency to like tragic queer couples (aot, orv, & bbm) or maybe bc i love the yearner trope. but honestly the thing that gets me about byler is probably because growing up with them i struggled with the same things they did (internalized homophobia & hiding my sexuality) it wasn’t until literally so recently that i started to find myself accepting my own queer attraction.

growing up seeing that on TV with these two characters who’s love is beyond any queer relationship on TV. It’s gut wrenching with just the right amount of angst that doesn’t make me wanna choke myself but enough that it’s realistic and raw. they never sexualized or made it seem shameful that queer love exists, and with that they’ve built up a love that grew so beautifully from the very first moment. they showed us that this relationships was incredibly deep, it started that day in kindergarten when mike asked will to be his friend and they’ve been inseparable since. they started as the outcasts and sought each other out and others who might’ve felt as lonely as they did. and yet their bond out ranks theirs with dustin and lucas, why? because it just does, because they found each other, not by “dumb luck or fate” but by choosing the other person to be their friend. choosing them to be in their party. mike choosing to stay/stand by will even when EVERYONE else chose to leave. mike’s love/care for will is so deep that it’s comparable to how his own mother values him, them being the only ones to believe that he was alive with NO evidence and actually having evidence to disprove his life, but mike had even less than joyce. like that is the kind of love that comes after years of marriage/familial bonds, the intuition of how the other is/are feeling.

this love doesn’t fade even though the seasons continue. i think we tend to really feel like mike’s character declined because he abandoned his friends as a means to hide his sexuality, but how is that he somehow still is most in tune with will even through all that. of course he’s already made the mistake and it’s too late to undo what has been done, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. by trying save his relationship with will in season 3/4, it’s almost like he’s trying to find a secret exit within the horrible walls he built around himself. he wants nothing more than to hide his secret from everyone and yet he’s so bad at it, not because will or men are his kryptonite or anything like that. but because it’s practically instinctual for him to choose will just like he did when he was a kid. it’s not like he doesn’t care about anyone else, but that love and care he has for those around him will never compare to they love he has for will because he will always choose and love will differently than anyone else. (again see his fights with EL, lucas, dustin, max, nancy, his parents, hopper). it’s shown to us that he becomes an asshole to them all at some point but it’s insane that we never see him actually apologize to any of them on screen the way that we see him do it with will. the amount of screen time and emphasis they put onto their relationship is not something you do for a pair of friends. it’s not, and somehow every moment they share is so much more intimate than even my favorite couples in the show but somehow it’s still going over the GA’s head. their moments are tender and intimate without sexual/romantic intimacy and somehow they outdo all the romance we DO see in screen. (let me say tho that the endgame couples obviously have love that i admire and love so much too) but byler’s is so incredibly unique and special in way that we haven’t seen in another parts of the show. (obviously parallels exist but those parallels aren’t identical).

on top of everything that we know and see, i stated before how this show will change everything, but all of this build up and once it’s finally confirmed and shown to the GA. it will be a happy, real, and raw love story that will be broadcast to millions. who, whether they want to admit it or not, it will show a story that is undeniably beautiful. a queer love story that isn’t cheesy (i love cheesy) or incredibly tragic (also love) but had time to buildup and grow with angst and painful moments but also tender and emotional moments that so many can relate to. seriously i’m having withdrawals, drop the trailer please.

[freedelusionshere]

Hi!! Love your posts. I would love to hear about your S4 predictions!!

They change on a daily/weekly basis, but I'll try!

Semi-rational predictions:

Syd doesn't leave The Bear and Carmy apologizes and changes his behavior, treating her like a real partner. The reason they're in the situation they are is that Carmy is trying to lead in areas he's not good at. All the elements for success are there, Carmy has self-sabotaged, and no one has really stood up to him and Syd will.

We learn about Syd's past and why she's so reluctant to cross personal/professional lines and why she feels like she's had to be so independent and why she did Sheridan Road by herself. Remember, Emmanuel loves her but hasn't really supported her dream as a viable career, and suggests she work at the airport like her cousin, meaning, their extended family likely feels the same way.

I'm guessing Syd grew up with her mother in the kitchen or a culinary influencer, a social activist in the community, and those are some of her fondest memories she has as a child before she passed which Syd has taken on as part of her legacy.

Cicero tries to burn down The Bear (the stuff he was sneaking in in S3) to give the kids the insurance money since he's going to bail on them and wants to save face, and it fails. It also puts him out of the picture of influencing them going forward, and they have to find another investor.

Donna tries to tell Syd at Tiff's wedding to run far away from The Beef like she did (aka Carmy is not really your family, he bailed on me, his own flesh and blood), and it backfires on Donna, because Carmy is willing to change for Syd and not her. Donna and Carmy hash it out and Carmy confronts his mom and tells her Syd is off-limits and he will choose The Bear over family-family any day, so don't test him, and that this is what he wants and for her to stop trying to meddle and treat him like an adult.

Syd and Carmy finally collaborate on a menu/dish, and it's amazing and gets rave reviews, and is a perfect reflection of them together. (I don't really care if they ever get a star, TBH, because Syd is Carmy's star.)

Marcus and Luca get together and Marcus moves to Copenhagen or Luca moves to Chicago (his sister is here) and they open a bakery together that wins awards.

Shipper lens predictions:

We find out Carmy signed Syd's apartment lease. We know her dad didn't and it's why he compares the apartment to the partnership agreement and makes digs, because he knows it's Carmy, and he already suspects Syd likes Carmy as more than a business partner and knows that Carmy will go very far to back Syd's ambitions. Which is part of why Syd is so into Carmy, because no one has done that for her before. Carmy also meets Emmanuel in S4 who goes hard on him at first for being unable to provide financially for his daughter and then comes around when he realizes how devoted Carmy is to her. Carmy also might have some money socked away for a moment such as this, despite being bad at math; Cousin Michelle connections, etc.

Carmy tries to apologize to Claire, but Claire thinks Syd is who he was talking to when he was trapped inside the walk-in, and that he never really was himself with her (which is true, because she made him uneasy) and Syd is his work-wife and for him to go fuck himself. She will try to embarrass him at the wedding as payback since she was already doing that almost the minute she left Friends & Family (which Ted repeats) and lied to Tiff about him. Neil confesses his love to Claire and apologizes for meddling.

Donna brings Lee to Tiff's wedding which causes Donna and Carmy hash it out and he finds out Lee is his birth father. This leads to a long conversation about how Donna isn't a person he can trust emotionally and explains why they all babied him, because they had a secret and felt guilty but didn't want him to know. The mystery of the missing/dead Berzatto dad is revealed.

Carmy and Syd have sex on top of a table at some point, maybe in the restaurant after hours. After a reveal about her eating the blood orange hamachi heart-on-a-plate dish, and that Carmy remembered her from the James Beard Award he won for Rising Star which she attended while she was at CIA, or she saw him at The Beef when she was a kid. The basic idea is some magic realism here, that they've run into each other before she showed up at The Beef, and they have always somehow or another been connected and in each other's lives and always will be.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Thousand Yard Stare Chapter 6

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost.  After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life.  His newfound PTSD is severe.  His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give.  His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with.  He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

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8 months later

Bucky was not okay.  He went through the motions of civilian life.  He’d found a part time job doing office administration, which he hated.  Steve and Sam had tried helping him get back into regular life, inviting him to parties and get togethers with other friends, trying to get him going to clubs with them, meeting people, dating, but his heart wasn’t in it.  He was living in the guest house behind his parent’s home, since he couldn’t afford to get his own place, and as much as he loved his parents, it was hard living under their watchful eyes.  He had all the support and resources open to him, but he just could not stop thinking of her.

He hadn’t told anyone about his almost-relationship with Y/N, but Steve and Sam had been suspicious of something happening when he rejected their attempts to set him up on dates.  “Buck, did something…happen while you were there?” Steve bit the bullet one day as they sat in the backyard having a beer.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

Steve sighed.  “Don’t bullshit me, Buck.  I know something’s up.  I could see it when we visited Mama’s House for Thanksgiving,” he said, giving Bucky an unimpressed look.  Bucky tensed up, looking away from him. “You like her,” Steve said.  “And I think something happened with her while you were there, but circumstances as they are have made you feel like it’s not a possibility–”

“She made it an impossibility,” Bucky said angrily.  He rubbed his face with his hand.  “I really don’t wanna talk about this, Steve.”

“I know your nightmares have come back,” Steve accused.  Bucky shook his head.  “Your mom heard you the other night, and she called me.”

“God,” Bucky quickly stood.  He chugged the rest of his beer and went back inside the guest house.  

“Buck, come on,” Steve said, quickly following him.  “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

“I don’t want or need your help, Steve,” Bucky rounded on him.  “I’m back, aren’t I?  Isn’t that what you all wanted?  For me to come home and get back into regular life?”

“Not if it makes you this miserable,” Steve shook his head.  

Bucky stared at him.  “I’m not miserable.”

Steve scoffed.  “Sure.  If you’re not miserable then come out with me and Sam, try to actually have fun, hook up with somebody, something!  But you can’t keep living like your mind is still there.”  He clapped Bucky’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry whatever it was didn’t work out with her.  But you’ve got to work past it.”

Bucky felt so tired.  A part of him wanted to move on, but the thought of that also made him feel sick.  He patted Steve’s hand.  “Fine.  When were you guys planning on going out?”

Steve smiled.  “Friday night karaoke.”

Bucky sighed.  “Fuck me.”

***

TRIGGER WARNING

Bucky didn’t like this bar as much as the one near Mama’s House.  It was fine but didn’t have the hometown feel, and it was filled with undergrads that made him feel old and out of place.  Each person who got up and sang was terrible, with only a few that could hold a tune, and he knew there wouldn’t be any saving grace at the end of the night.  Sam got up and sang “Edge of Glory” by Lady Gaga, which was the only time Bucky laughed all night.  

There was also a lot more dancing at this bar.  Whether it was during a karaoke performance or the music that was played in between people, there were people dancing and grinding up on each other constantly.  He had to maneuver his way through the crowd so as not to get accidentally thrusted at after grabbing another beer from the bar.  There had been a few brave, flirty souls who had come up to him, Steve and Sam, but Bucky had rebuffed their advances.  It just didn’t feel right.

While the three of them went back up to the bar again for another refill Bucky was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled into the crowd of people dancing.  He tried to turn and see who was touching him but being surrounded by a tight group of people made it nearly impossible.  Other hands began touching his arms, his chest, his shoulders.  Drunk voices were all around him.  “Hey handsome…”  “Come dance!”  He tried pushing and pulling their hands away, then stiffened when he felt someone with large hands on his waist thrust their hips, a bulge poking into his ass.  “Pretty boy…”  He blacked out.

***

The buzzing woke Y/N up.  She groaned as she turned over and blindly grabbed for her phone.  Glancing at the clock as the light stung her eyes it read 3:32 a.m.  “What the fuck?” she grumbled.  She sat up on her elbow and answered the call.  “Hello?”

“Y/N!” the voice yelled.  “Please, we can’t find him, you have to help us.  I don’t know–”

“Wait wait,” Y/N sat all the way up.  “Who is this?”

“It’s Winnie,” she cried.  “Bucky’s gone!”

“What?” Y/N was now fully awake.  “What do you mean?  What happened?”

Winnie was uncontrollably crying and she heard a muffled noise as someone else took the phone.  “Y/N?” they said.

“Who is this?” she asked, getting out of bed and starting to get dressed.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”  He sounded exhausted.  “I don’t know what happened.  We took him out tonight to a karaoke bar and he got caught up in the crowd and then there was all this shouting and pushing, then he ran,” he said.  “We tried following him out but he was long gone.  We’ve been searching for hours, trying to call him, but he won’t answer.  We don’t know what to do…Winnie just called thinking you might be of help.”

“Shit,” Y/N sighed as she put on her shoes.  “Send me your address.  It’ll take me a few hours but I’m coming.  I don’t know how much help I’ll be…”

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve said.

“Too bad, I’m coming,” she said as she ran down the stairs, grabbing her wallet and keys and booking it to the front door.  She opened it and as she turned to close and lock it she froze as she looked at the porch swing.  “Steve,” she whispered.  “He’s here.”

“What?!” Steve asked incredulously.  

“Listen,” she said quietly.  “I’ll take care of him and call you guys in the morning, okay?  We’ll figure it all out then.  Just know that he’s here, and overall he looks like he’s okay.”

Steve sighed heavily and she heard a noise like he was rubbing his face.  “Okay, thanks Y/N.”

“No problem. Bye,” she hung up.  She slowly approached the porch swing.  Bucky was laying on it, facing away from her, his long legs dangling over the side.  “Bucky?” she called out.  She reached a hand out and shook his arm gently.  Bucky inhaled shakily.  She leaned over him to find him staring wide-eyed at the porch swing slats.  “Buck,” she reached her hand down and caressed his cheek with the backs of her fingers.  His eyes fluttered shut.  “Come back to me,” she whispered.

Bucky shivered and slowly turned his head to look at her.  When his eyes found her they were wet and his chin trembled.  “Y/N,” he whispered.

“Hey lover boy,” she smiled at him.  “Come on, let’s get you warmed up,” she said, pulling his arm.

Bucky stiffly allowed her to move him, sitting up on the porch swing.  She pulled him to stand and brought his arm around her shoulders.  Y/N led him through the house then to the back buildings.  She unlocked the comfy building, pulling him toward the cuddle room, then had him sit on the bed.  She started pulling his jacket and shoes off and looking him over.

“Are you in any pain?” she asked quietly, her hands checking his hands, arms, feet, ankles, neck, and anything else she could immediately see.

“No,” he mumbled.  She looked at him and saw the tell-tale thousand yard stare.  He was in shock.

“That’s good,” she said, watching him carefully.  She cupped his face in her hands, trying to get him to look at her.  “How did you get here?”

Bucky’s eyes were unfocused.  “Bus,” he murmured.

“For fuck’s sake,” Y/N grumbled.  She couldn’t find any injuries and so she pushed him up further onto the bed, sitting in front of him.  She grabbed his hands, taking one in each of her hands and massaging it.    “Do you wanna tell me what happened?” she asked.

Bucky’s eyes closed.  He seemed to be reveling in the touch on his hands.  “Guy grabbed me,” he muttered.  “Touched me…thrusting at me…hands everywhere…” he shivered again, his free hand tightening into a fist.  Y/N quickly grabbed it, forcing his fingers open to massage his palm.  “I…don’t remember.”

“That’s okay,” Y/N soothed him.  “He shouldn’t have done that without your consent.  That wasn’t right.  I’m sorry you felt unsafe.  It’s okay,” her hands moved up to his wrists, massaging them.  “You’re okay.  You’re safe here.”  She took her time as she moved up his arms to his shoulders, massaging along the way.  Her fingers softly scratched up his neck and his face.  His beard had grown in more, and his hair was even longer than when she last saw him.  Y/N leaned forward and scratched up into his hair, gently smoothing out any knots and massaging his scalp with her fingertips.  Bucky’s eyes flew open and focused on her, flicking across her face like he was finally recognizing her.  “I’ve got you,” she whispered.

Bucky’s face scrunched in pain, his eyes filling with tears and spilling over.  He leaned forward until his head rested on her shoulder, Y/N holding him and shushing him as he cried.  His hands reached out and pulled her toward him, Y/N moving herself to straddle his lap as he hugged her tight.  “I’ve got you,” she murmured into his ear, kissing the side of his head.  She pushed him so he would lay down next to her and held him, pulling a blanket over the both of them.  He nuzzled into her chest as he cried, his tight hold never letting up.  “I’ve got you.”

***

The sun streamed into the room and shone on Bucky’s face.  He groaned at the offending light.  He was so comfortable he didn’t want to move.  The steady beating under his ear was soothing, but the pillow seemed to be moving.  He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light, before looking around.  He wasn’t in his room.  He was in…the cuddle room?  The pillow was a body, he was laying on Y/N’s breast.  He moved to sit up and looked up at her.  She was still asleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her mouth slightly open and her eyes moving behind her eyelids.  Her arm that cradled his head against her chest was hugging around him, her fingers still poised in his hair.  He smiled.  For the first time in months it was like his heart was settling down, his mind was quiet and his body was at ease.

Bucky settled back down, not wanting to wake her yet, and milk every moment of this peace that he could.  Unfortunately, his squirming made her groan as she stretched next to him, slowly waking up and rubbing her eyes with her free hand.  Y/N looked around momentarily before turning and looking at him.  She sleepily smiled at him.  “Good morning, Buck,” she whispered.

“Good morning,” he answered hoarsely.  He cleared his throat and moved so that he was hovering over her.  He reached a hand up and touched her face, his fingers tracing over her cheek, to her nose, and down her lips.  “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” Y/N asked, watching him.

“For this,” he said, looking away.  “Just showing up out of nowhere in the middle of the night, having a panic attack, making you take care of me–”

“No,” Y/N interrupted him.  “You have nothing to apologize for.”  She grabbed the hand near her face and kissed his knuckles.  “I told you, I’ve got you.  But you should probably call your parents.”

Bucky hummed and nodded.  “Probably should.”  He sat up and she joined him, reaching for her phone on the nightstand next to the bed and checking.  She had multiple texts from Winnie, which she quickly answered.  “Your mom’s freaking out,” she said quietly.  “Do you have your phone?”

Bucky checked his pockets and found it.  “Yeah,” he said, trying to turn it on.  “It’s dead.”

“Here,” she said, pulling up Winnie’s phone number.  He thanked her and hit the call button.

“Y/N?” his mother’s voice answered.

“Hey Ma,” Bucky said.

“Bucky!” she yelled, and there was a clattering on the other end and multiple voices calling out.  “What happened?  Oh honey, we were so worried–”

“You fucker!” Sam yelled.

“Sam,” Steve chastised him.  “Buck it’s okay–”

“Bucky,” his father’s voice cut through.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said, watching Y/N hide her smile at all the concerned voices.  “I’m okay.  I just…had something happen that was triggering.  I honestly don’t remember much of last night.”

George sighed shakily.  “Okay.  I’m so sorry, my boy.  Just, come home, okay?  Do you need a ride?  We can come get you.”

“Dad, can I…” he paused, glancing at Y/N.  She was looking down at the bed.  “Can I call you guys back?  And we’ll figure it out?”

George paused.  “Sure, sure.  Just call back soon, please?”

“I will,” Bucky said reassuringly.  “Love you guys.  I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be!” yelled Steve.

Bucky chuckled and said goodbye once more before hanging up.  He handed Y/N her phone back.  “Thank you,” he said.  

“You’re welcome,” she said, giving him a small, polite smile.  She moved so that her back was against the wall to face him.  They stared at each other for a long moment.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked finally.

“Yeah,” he answered, looking at his hands.  “I’ll be okay.  Just had a moment.  I’ll stay away from packed bars for a while until I can work through it.”

“Good idea,” she agreed.  They sat silently again.  “I can drive you home,” she offered.

“I don’t wanna leave,” he whispered.  Another moment of silence.  

“You…you gotta go home, Bucky,” Y/N said.

“I can’t,” Bucky shook his head.  “It doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed.  “I feel peace here.  With you.  My mind is finally quiet,” he glanced up at her.  She didn’t move.  “My heart feels calmer.  My anxiety is gone.  Please, don’t send me away,” he reached a hand out and gripped her ankle.  She didn’t move again, but her breathing was getting heavier as she watched him.  Her brow furrowed in the middle and she looked sadly at him.  “I’ll move up here,” he said, scooting forward.  “I can work here, for you, keeping up the property, doing office stuff, whatever it is you need from me,” he said more earnestly.  Y/N opened her mouth to protest.  “Yes, my family and friends are there,” he interrupted her, “but that doesn’t make it home.  You’re home,” he said, sitting in front of her, cupping her face in his hands.  Y/N closed her eyes, hesitantly nuzzling her face into his palm.  “My life is here.  You’re my life.  You, and this house, and this work, and Teddy,” he chuckled, and she snickered with him.  “All I want is this.  All I want is you,” he leaned forward and kissed her nose.  “Please, Y/N,” he whispered.  “I’ll do whatever you need, whatever you want,” he rested his forehead against her forehead, his nose tracing along her cheek.  “I’ll be your lover boy, for as long as you’ll have me.”  

Y/N giggled.  “How can you say so many sweet things and sprinkle something dirty in there?”  

“See?  I’m fun to have around,” Bucky said.  

Y/N looked up at him, the desire in her face giving him hope.  “I want you,” she said.  “I’ve missed you…so much,” her voice wobbled with emotion.  “I just don’t want to take you from your family.”

“They’ll understand,” Bucky said, kissing her cheek.  “Dad will probably want to move up here anyways.”

Y/N huffed a laugh and shook her head.  “You would drop everything to stay here?  With me?”

Bucky nodded.  “I love you.  I would have done it 8 months ago if you’d let me.”

Y/N smiled softly.  “I thought I was doing the right thing.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  She nuzzled her nose against his.  “You’re so much more than inappropriate timings and stolen moments,” she said.  

Bucky sighed and pulled her into his lap, his hands on her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  “You love me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, nodding.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek.  “Say it.”

Y/N smiled teasingly.  “Or what?”

Bucky looked at her in surprise.  “Hm, so you’re not always Mommy are you?”

Y/N blushed and shrugged.  “I said sometimes, didn’t I?”  

Bucky’s eyes narrowed.  “Brat,” he called her teasingly.  Y/N’s eyes widened.  Bucky leaned in again and kissed her other cheek, then her jaw, her chin, then the side of her mouth.  She tried to chase his lips but he moved away and a small whine escaped her throat.  “Say it,” he whispered against her skin.  Y/N minutely shook her head and he groaned.  He started kissing up to her forehead, over her eyelids, her nose, and back to her other cheek, littering kisses all over her face but just out of reach of her lips.  Y/N tried to guide his face back to her mouth but he grabbed her wrists and held them behind her.  She gasped as he kissed her neck.

“Bucky…” she whimpered.

“Say it,” he grunted, nipping at her collarbone.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Again,” he licked a long stripe up her jugular.

“I love you,” Y/N said a little louder.

“Again,” he growled in her ear.

“Fuck, I love you,” she moaned loudly, pulling at her wrists in his firm hold.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled before releasing her wrists.

“God,” Y/N sighed, cupping his face in her hands again.  She leaned in and started kissing all over his face.  Her hips started to grind down on him, making his breath stutter.  “Are you trying to drive me crazy?  We can’t do this in here,” she breathed.

“Then let me take you out,” Bucky said, trying to keep his wits about him.  He stopped her kissing, even though he really didn’t want to, and made her look at him.  “You can drive me back, I’ll tell my family and friends what’s going on, and then we’ll come back home, and I’ll take you out sometime.  Or,” his hands ran up her sides, his fingertips barely sliding over the sides of her breasts, “you can sing me another song next karaoke night, and I can show you just how much it affects me every time you sing?  Especially those sexy songs?”

Y/N hummed as she scratched the back of his neck gently.  “It all sounds perfect,” she sighed.  

Bucky smiled, leaning in and finally kissing her lips.  “Then let’s go.”

@wintrsoldrluvr @isitbiorisitlesbian @starfly-nicole @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @idontknowhowtonormal

[coldsaturn]

I finished my reread of TKM (in its Italian translation, for a change) in preparation for TGR, and I have thoughts

There's something inherently addictive about a character knowing they're on a countdown and trying to make the most of the time they still have

"I didn't tell her." They were the only two in the car, but it took Neil a moment to realize he was being addressed. He glanced over at Aaron, but Aaron was gazing out the passenger window. "Neither did I," Neil said. "She asked you about Andrew." It wasn't a question, but Neil said, "Yes. You too?" "She doesn't ask me anything anymore," Aaron said. "She knows there's no point. I haven't ever said a word to her." //Of course they hate each other so much, they're way more similar than they're comfortable with

Aaron, Matt, Renee, Wymack, e Andrew are all like "should we tell Neil he's now in a relationship or?" but they all decide to leave Neil in his painful obliviousness for the same reason. The fact that it will be Roland to tell him will forever be iconic.

On the translation for "Every inch of you," Andrew said. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't blow you." I forgive the translator every past mistake. That line got me like a freight train in the face.

"Whatever Kevin saw on Neil's face, it was enough to kill his curiosity. Kevin slowly closed his mouth, withdrew his hand, and went back to drinking" // Kevin in this scene

Andrew keeps on being hilarious even unmedicated.

"Cool it," Ricky warned them, with his hands out toward both of them. "We've got enough trouble to deal with right now without your bullshit." // I want a book about him

The whump level of attention Neil gets starting from his Evermore stay and onward is absolutely delicious.

Neil spends the night with Kevin watching Exy matches, then Nicky tries to get Neil to go for ice cream and Neil is about to say no when he sees Andrew and suddenly he's all existential "Exy can't be everything" lmao

Andrew going against Kevin multiple times to favor Neil is my new kink

"I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to go back for you." // Andrew has five (5) people he'd save in a zombie apocalypse. That's an entirely respectable number of people to care for that intensely. Neil chose one and one only.

It's almost impossible to comment anything once we start snowballing toward the end because that would require putting the book down, but I'll make an effort: Andrew's fierceness is heartbreaking. He threatens people left and right and most of the Foxes around him treat him like he's an immortal, vengeful god. Kevin trusts him to protect him from Riko, Neil hilariously trusted him to protect him from Riko and the mafia behind him. Riko himself reacts to him with caution like he's dealing with a rabid dog that might just be faster than a gun drawn in self-defense. Andrew threatens the FBI and Abby, and it's like he genuinely thinks he can win against multiple armed and trained adults. But he's not invincible. He's so far from that it's painful. He can be overpowered, his strength is proportional to his body, he has been brought down again and again. Hes' just a dude. But so many around Andrew treat him like his strength is a bottomless well, for better or worse, and I wonder what his self-confidence would be if he didn’t receive so often positive feedback on his ability to take everything and everyone down with him. I don’t think he’s even aware of it, but I’m glad it’s there nonetheless.

"She taught Coach Exy," Neil reminded him. "And what, he didn't notice that he knocked her up?" Aaron asked. // AARON lmao

Still can't believe Andreil got off on Kevin's drama queen tattoo and didn't even bother trying to hide it

Still can’t believe Andreil had a full on makeout session at Evermore. Somewhere, in a parallel universe, dark Andreil from the perfect court felt a tremor in the force

Reading my bound trilogy gives the pace of the entire work a completely different feeling. This truly is one single story, and not three separate books. Once you feel them being whole in your hands, without boundaries between one and the other, you can truly appreciate the avalanche that this story is. You start slowly with all the puzzle pieces around you and then accelerate until you reach the last 200 pages where you can't even find time to breathe, the entire narrative a single unified crescendo built on the 500 pages that came before.

Neil is an amazing protagonist, but he could have been unsufferable so easily if Nora hadn't done such a good job of keeping him an active character with a mountain of agency. The things that happen to him are obnoxiously incredible, but he never becomes the cliché passive protagonist bound by plot because they have nothing of their own to keep themselves upright. Everything that happens to him he reacts to with equal if not more force; hell, half of what happens he instigates with his own hands. So many books give you an empty protagonist meant to be the stand-in for the audience, just an empty shell so the reader can project onto them and fantasize about a different reality. Neil is complex, absurd, uncomfortable, and doesn't care if you relate to him or not. As a reader you are a fly on the wall and are treated as such. Neil isn’t here to make you feel good about yourself.

Insane rereadability rate. Read one book per day and I didn't even feel it, I already miss it and want to go back to the beginning to ride the roller coaster again. I'm a decade older than when I read this trilogy the first time, but these books are still a dopamine injection straight into my eyeballs.

[user947468]

The Game Within | Chishiya Shuntarou Fanfiction

Originally posted on ao3! @user951250

Chapter 4/20

Prompt ; You get trapped in a TV show, dedicated to stick by the rules of the game you hid in the shadows, watching from a distance, acting clueless. But what happens when you’re also being watched?

Note- Not my best writing but I hope you enjoy! Also very sorry for the wait😓 Also just reiterating if a text is bold that means you’re speaking english!

Chishiya can't put together a perception of you that doesn't lack incognizance.

If it weren't for his compromised plan; The entry of Arisu and Usagi- he wouldn't have bothered with you at all- until your keenness of the couple and the ease of conversation between you caused a slight disturbance to his plan. If your relation with them was as friendly as he judged off your exchange's, what was the probability Arisu would want to include you in the plan? Save you from the corrupt ways of the beach? Arisu was smart enough, and Chishiya knew he would accompany his plan despite that- so why wouldn't you? He had no doubt in himself that he could coax anyone into his plan- you were certainly no exception, more over he knew everyone needed to be inspired from a different approach. In retrospect it sounded like a simple fix; If Arisu did propose you to the plan, he would encourage you too his scheme. If Arisu neglected to inform you, well, that would make playing his part a lot simpler.

Chishiya didn't know you, but he was aware of you. Relatively because of you being the only foreigner to enter the Beach, mainly because of your staring problem.

Despite his initial standpoint of your eyeing- seeing it as a vague threat of some sort, keeping your presence in the back of his mind when going about the Beach at the small risk you proposed.. nonexistent risk, if he was being sincere- he noticed your gaze wasn't limited to just him, but to practically everyone that you came across. By-chance individuals, exclusive's, higher ranks, militants when their backs were turned- it would have been considered ill-mannered in any other context, built up on walls of social curtsy- but it didn't matter here.

With that he's grown used to being observed after his brief accusation, after all you're not the first person he's encountered that stares especially within the Beach's crowd- although you do seem to a significant amount more than a normal person. Chishiya's been able to disregard you entirely- your stares and individually- so much to the point he almost forgets you are ever there at all. Despite not wanting to entertain your glowering- even if ignoring it didn't seem to be doing much either- he grew curious of your hobby. You didn't seem to care if anyone noticed, only looking a bit sheepish if they looked back- but what drew him in the most was the pressure you did it with. You weren't watching them simply to do with boredom- No, your cause was heavier than that. It was like you were dissecting them, taking apart their words, actions, reactions, just to build back up their conscious. It was as abnormal as it was engaging.

Your invasion to his plan- intentional or not- was what pushed him to come up to you in the first place. It was a weak attempt, really- too not only gauge your reaction but too see the engraved number that etched across your bracelet. He's not entirely sure what he was expecting, but when he turned around he wasn't expecting to be meet with you abandoning the kitchen entirely. He couldn't help but wonder what conscious you made for him then. One that made him that disagreeable to be around, that distrustful to refuse to pick up an enclosed item, simply because he offered it. Your rank was lower than he anticipated.

Chishiya prized himself as hard to read- with incognito facades and vacant expressions- it often came in handy, especially during this portion of his life. The issue lied with you- a potential add on to his plan- seemed to be wary of him entirely, not to frighten to stray away but knowing better than to get anymore than near. Despite it being ever so slightly intriguing, it was faulty to his plan.

Whenever he made a point to watch you, you seemed as comprehensive as the average pleasure-seeker that stepped foot in the Beach- laying out by the pool, engaging in social queues and babbling to whoever you were with at the time. It was only ever when he seen you by chance did he notice your wavering sense of character. Strolling the beach behind pillars- head down and pace fast- trailing eye's, wandering behind closed doors, swift notes on paper, glances at security camera's in every room- too hidden to even be seen from most angles- a detail he only noticed when he himself was scouting out the camera's visibility. It was thought provoking- you seemed to be ordinary enough, and it'll be easy to write your behavior off as simply a combination of weird quirks but there was no way to confirm or deny your behavioral changes.

Did you know more than you were letting on, or was it an ill-fated coincidence?

Chishiya had a plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This had to be some sort of a sick joke.

The days following your club game you couldn't shake the feeling of being observed, actually present- something infrequent in your conscious. It clouded around you and to the center of your core; Physically, mentally, spiritually- like the thunder before a storm all you could do was wait for the uproar. What the uproar was you weren't sure- when or how it would happen was beyond you- but it felt personal enough. Maybe that's why you've been timid to leave your room- cautious to limiting your interactions with anybody, restricting booze and time spent out of your room.

It could have been because of the forthcoming of the games, inevitability of the downfall of the beach and lack of control over that fact- but you refused to believe it to be because of the exchange you had with Chishiya. Although you couldn't deny his new found enjoyment of eating in the kitchen, or sitting out by the pool and waiting hours after sundown by the bar- which, you've never seen him actually drink anything during those nights- made you slightly worried you weren't going to wake up the next morning. Rationally you knew Arisu and Usagi were the cause of his heightening appearances but it was also hard to not notice how whenever you so much as looked in his general direction- like he had fucking eye's in the back of his head- he would find your gaze almost immediately. It was so intolerable you thought maybe he did have two set's of eye's, hell what did you know?

Regardless of your new found apprehension of spacial awareness around the beach, it came with more time for you to descend into you mind. Grasping and searching for not only the details of the world before you but trying to rationalize what you proposed to Chishiya- you doubted him speaking to you was by chance or spontaneously. If you knew anything about Chishiya, not only from your time in the Borderlands but outside it too, he was never one to do without reason.

And what reason did he calculate talking to you would accomplish?

On the second day of you caged in your room you wrote down a list of three;

A) Get your staring under control ! B) Place a chair under your door knob as a short-term lock at night (just encase..) C) Join game BEFORE 10 of hearts.

A and B were obvious pro-cations- one more paranoid than the other, but who's to say?- and C was something you only gave thought to recently after you caught a glimpse of Mira and Kuzuryu together- something not absurd to see but rare enough to cause some question's to float around in your brain- consulting with each other with rigid postures and hyper aware stares at each individual that passed by them. Conveniently in one of the security cameras blind spots.

It came to you then that despite your knowledge of the game- how to solve it, how to play and what to do- even the game master's of it all- the chance of you surviving was lower than what was comfortable. You would get killed if you tried to reason with burning Momoka first, you would get killed if you tried to hid away or run, you would get killed if you tried to team up- it only made sense to leave the game behind with just enough visa days to save before the face cards.

More eager than should've been, you were almost happy to be leaving for a game. Three day's of being in your head with little to no vices didn't sound that bad aloud, and it would have been if the bar wasn't off limits for most hours of the day, but you were left futile... It also gave you time to think about if you had a drinking problem or not.

The burden of keeping a facade became more tolerable while being organized into a group, dodging through crowds and the walk to the car- the farther from the Beach the better you felt- and maybe it was uncivil to prefer a death trial to the Beach. But in the end of the day the Beach held just as much blood on their hands as the game's, so really which was worse? The silence was helpful to the fog swirling in your head, it was as close enough to feeling at ease than you've felt all week- the moon was bright, lighting up the night in just the right way. You felt concealed from the world around you, this was one of the reason you tended to game's at night. It was until your harmony was crushed that the weight was back, but 10 times worse than before. The air seemed more shallow than it was just a second ago and you slowed your pace so much you were practically standing still.

Maybe it was by bad odds, or maybe you were thinking about it too much, or maybe he was trying to kill you.

Chishiya was already sat in the passenger seat, hood down for once and as expressionless as ever. Just as you thought maybe you could get away with jumping into the nearest vehicle that didn't have Chishiya in it, your weight shifted down on a branch and crack!

You felt sick.

Chishiya hoisted his head just enough to see where that sound came from, he didn't falter when he seen you- instead taking a second scanning you. It felt a lot longer than a second and more invading than it should have been. You almost felt like you shouldn't be seen - your arms twitched to cover yourself. He didn't looked shocked to see you, or like he even cared- you're not sure which is worse. He stared for a moment longer and you felt stupid standing still, and when you expected him to lose interest and look away- he waved instead.

Was it too late to switch group's?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride to the arena was quiet.

Despite the low rumble of the engine running and the obnoxious chewing from the girl beside you- which prompted you scooting as far as the jeep would let you away from the brunette and trying your hardest to zone out the continuous wet smacks. If this was any other time you probably would've sent her a gross look, plugging one ear and hugging the side of the door - but you couldn't be bothered too. Not when your own mind was keeping you distracted. You're not even sure you've shifted or looked up from the window sense you've sat down. The leather seat's were too starchy to comfortably move around anyways.

There were three in the car- four, including you- and you were almost certain one of them was going to kill you tonight.

You've been in a game with an exclusive only twice- one with Ann, one with Last Boss, both were spades and thankfully both team orientated. You remember feeling how you felt now, catering into death with no way to stop it except faith. It was pitiful how easy you fall into sheer hope in life or death situations, you knew it had no capability in helping you yet its always what you lay back on. To your own revaluation, you've gotten this far on it- and now all you could do was hope you have yet to run luckless and join a Diamonds game.

Chishiya presence was loud and yet he didn't have to say anything, every second of the ride you were alert of his presence. Each gesture he made, small shuffle of his jacket or slight movement of his hair reminded you that this was the first time you've ever been close to the man for an extended period of time. It also prompted the weight of which Chishiya could hold over your life- he was clever, quick-witted, more experienced in the games- what's the likely hood he killed you out of pure malice of your staring? A quick fix to the annoyance you caused? Maybe he planned this game with you all along. If his attentiveness didn't make you skittish before, him waving to you certainly did. Now your not sure if you disregarding his greeting entirely was the right move or not.

What's the likely hood of you over-analyzing the situation?

The overpowering smell of leather and the dull ache of the headrest smacking against your forehead made it painfully obvious you arrived at the game. Thankfully you were saved of the embarrassment of being the only one physically abused by the man's parking job.

"Ow, you fucker! Couldn't have pressed on the break's any harder could you?"

It would have been funny if you weren't also glaring at the man, although her tone almost made you crack a smile despite it. She seemed to have had it worse than you, smashing her face against her door's window- if the small circle of condensation that fogged the glass hinted to anything. Rubbing out your forehead you silently hoped it didn't bruise.

"Are you kidding me? Maybe if you weren't so coked up you would've have the strength to stay up-right."

Thinking about it, it did make sense. Her constant ticking and blown pupils- the frantic gum chewing must have been an outsource of energy. Your not sure how the Beach sourced certain things, but you wouldn't put cocaine behind them. Although your sure it's limited to the few that would get close to Hatter, the ones that would join his 'private party's' in his suite- something you personally strayed away from. They went back and forth for a while- It was slightly entertaining at first and it brought some humor into your dejected mindset- although it got tiresome quick when it felt like their quarrel sounded more like a deranged dirty talk than an actual argument. You left after the first, and surely not the last- "dirty bitch" came out of his mouth.

The arena was just a few feet into a woodland- it slightly exited you, most game's were located out in the main area's of the city and you've personally never participated in one away that wasn't downtown. Despite the slight eeriness of the woods, the moon did good to light the forest, giving you a clear view of the trail through the tree's- it was cracked and muddy and hard to balance on but it gave off the innocents of a pathway to a tree house.

It made sense now why you couldn't have driven any further to the game's entrance, branches overgrown the path left and right. All along the tree's trunks there were subtle signs pointing to an abandon building, arrows hallowing out of the bark. It led to a cabin with trashed windows, rotting wood, and protruding beams- how it was still standing was a miracle and you began speculating that it would be coming down after tonight. You not sure it wouldn't collapse on the first foot that stepped inside.

It was no surprise to see Chishiya waiting at the entrance, having heard the low click of his door closing, but nonetheless the sight of him still made you steady your grounding and straighten your posture. For one thing, you were nervous to enter a game with the man at all out of fear of not coming back out of it- but for some reason you almost wanted to prove something to Chishiya. To prove what you weren't sure, and you shook the childish thought out of your head before you could figure it out. Getting a closer look at the house- despite its decaying frame it had a good build to it. It might of even been a structure to praise about before the rot got to it.

Laying out six phone's, a glass caged map of the woods stood before the door- probably the only sturdy structure you would be seeing for this game. You sighed and grabbed the fourth, there was no doubt you would have to wait until they were done to start the game- leaving you alone with Chishiya. He moved like a ghost through the vandalized house, the gloominess really wasn't helping his case- moving away from the door frame for you to enter, keeping quiet as you examined the interior- stained Persian rug's, cracked resin paintings, shattered grandfather clock- you even tried to turn of the light to no avail, having to use your phone light to roam around- he didn't seem to mind silence.

Until he did.

"What suit do you think we'll be playing? Surely space is to limited to be spade's," He commented, eye's scattered across the room. It was the first time you've ever seen him up close, it was almost like it was the first time he was allowing you to see. Although the lack of light made it hard to tell where he was looking. Would it be rude to shine your light in his face?

You cleared your throat, "It's possible…"

You didn't know how to answer, what answer was he looking for? Turning away from the man seemed to give you a clear head. "But unlikely," It was true, there was no room for any sort of physical action, especially not with the pans and planks of wood that were thrown around the floor. You really hoped there were no mice in here.

"Club's are our best bet."

Diamonds or Hearts if I'm unlucky, is what you don't say.

Fiddling with deserted coins you found, you wait for him to respond- You think he was to respond, based on his quick inhale but instead a loud shriek echos through the door- for a moment you felt your face drain of color. They wouldn't have transported wolves here too, would they? With furrowed eyebrows glancing from the door back to Chishiya expecting some form of a reaction- but he doesn't even look a bit curious and you don't know why he's looking at you like that- with raised eyebrow's and an expectant look like your supposed to just understand until you hear a string of laughter after and.. Oh. The color comes back to your face rather quickly.

"Interesting how people jump at any chance of pleasure while being in the face of death," Chishiya added and you couldn't help but wonder why he was speaking to you at all. Peering at you from where he stood- which was closer than he was before, he continued when he realized you had nothing to say.

'It's no different from out world, death creeping behind you wherever you are, so why aren't people just as reckless as they are here?"

The words 'our world' shivered underneath your skin in a way you weren't expecting. What reply would be the safest one? And had he always has that mole on his face?

The coins never left your palm.

You hated how he phrased his words- like he was specifically asking you why you used the pleasure's that the Beach offered at its expensive, and what the difference in surroundings made to you. If only he knew the difference between your normal world and his.

Despite you knowing his question's were to gauge an underlined knowledge about whatever it was he was trying to understand from you- still you felt a slight bit of embarrassment mixed with irritation- it grew when you heard how calculated each word he said was and how casual he threw it around, he made himself sound above it all, like he was some groundbreaking philosopher- it teased a nerve in your brain.

“Speak for yourself," you replied, "Some people enjoy the small pleasure's the world offers. Doesn't matter where or when."

"Fair enough."

The loud slam of a car door silenced your conversation- a "Let's get this thing started!" entirely too cheerfully made you worried they would go for a second round until you heard the patter of footsteps down the track. By the time they got to door they were both sniffling and reeked of sex, sweaty and crumpled clothed- in unison both you and Chishiya took a few steps away from the couple. You slid the coins into your jacket pocket.

Registration is now closed.

The game is about to commence. Difficulty, Six of Diamonds. ♦️

There are a total of four participants.

Game, "Echo Code."

Rule- Groups of two will be made. Match the flashing color of your phones to a door handle, and enter the room.

Clear conditions- Locate the code that will unlock your door within the time limit and before the other teams.

The game will now commence.

45 minutes remaining.

You were fucked in every sense of the word.

Not only were you fated to die, you were left confused- Your phone flashed a deep blue, Chishiya's a low white, the brunettes a gold, and the militants a blood red- the teams were completely randomized and they didn't even give you a clue to who it was with. There was a 33.3% chance you survive the game, 66.7% chance you'll die- you've played games with a lower survival risk but somehow this seemed more intimidating. At least with those games you can have hope throughout the process, to push you forwards to survival, but if you get teamed up with anyone but Chishiya, well.. your not entirely sure what will happen to you. You're not sure you want to find out, either- although it was something you've given thought to before and it was nothing less than brutal.

You felt sick all over again.

"What the hell? I thought we were getting grouped?" The dark-haired girl grunted out-loud with flailing arms. For someone facing death she seemed rather relaxed- slumped shoulders and slow movements- it must of been the drugs. Maybe you should take some- she obviously has them on her- and this is very likely your last game and what better way to go than to be barley coherent how or when it was happening at all?

"We are." Chishiya stated, walking around the three of you and making his way to the left side of the cabin- you have yet to wander there from the sheer fact that there were no windows to help you see- and because of, well.. mice. Chishiya used his phone to light up the hall- six doors side by side.

You decided against your pre-matured death, seeing Chishiya open a door right besides a dark blue doorknob. He seemed to notice this too, glancing your way before opening the door- or least you think he did- it was really to dark to tell. He left into his designated space, closing it with beaming light shining from the room.

You could've kissed him on the mouth right then.

The conformation eased you immensely, finding it a lot easier to gravitate towards your door than before. With a tolerable wringing in your brain you followed around the couple. The man said something this time, but they feel on deaf ears when you opened the door- the contrast of the splitting wood and chipped painted door knob to the room was utterly deranged.

Before you could properly discern the place the luminosity of the room left you momentarily blind, your shielded hand did little to help you but the short sting was worth the view of the room. Tall, freshly painted blue walls with grout work on the bottom, framed vintage artworks, black threaded carpet with gold embroidered symbols and walls filled with stacked bookshelf- the whole size of the room defied logic to the size of the house. The room itself looked like royalty, or at least a replica made for a museum of sorts. It was breathtaking- and maybe you wouldn't have minded dying here after all.

You wondered if Chishiya's room was something like yours.

And why you room was twenty times colder rather than room temperature.

After shutting the door- which looked oddly like a ship's door on the inside- you made your way to the pedestal in the middle of the room, it looked like one of those Greek pillars outside a gallery- the one's made with clay-cement and are hand chipped to perfection. It laid out a black cord phone. You hesitated to touch it.

The biggest frame was one of a painting- entirely erotic and naked, mounted in the center of the room. First thing you see when you walk in, last to see when you walk out. It was of a girl in a position so obscene you had to tilt your head at a 45 degree angle to understand its perspective, all though see seemed to be enjoying herself despite the contorted points of her back.

“Huh, never tried that one."

"Tried what?"

You jumped back instinctively, hitting your back against the door with a thud. You felt like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar. Furiously you whipped your head around trying to find the source of sound, "Chishiya?"

A low grunt of conformation answered your question. You finally eyed a gold platted vent, it was well hidden in a clump of smaller paintings with cold frames and you had to go on your tip-toes to see through it. Chishiya was on the other side.

"Have any idea of what we're supposed to do yet?"

"No. Do you?"

Liar.

"Give me a second."

Making you way back to pedestal you fumbled with the keys but they were all jammed shut, and the entire phone seemed to be bolted to the cement. As a last resort you exhaled shakily and lifted the receiver to your ear, far enough away encase it was a decoy and was made to burst your eardrum and...

Nothing.

Fuck, maybe there was a button- swoosh!

You heard it before you seen it. The etching grumble sound of an old pipe, running water and a loud splash. How you didn't notice the large pipe you weren't sure but it was very apparent now- it was overly rusted and, was that black mold in there?

The room was big but the way the water was rapidly flowing made you believe your time limit was shortened by at least 10 minutes. The pipe was attached too the left wall, high enough to touch the ceiling and located behind a book shelf- it was already making a wet mess of the dense carpet. The door made sense now.

Deep blue.

Those cheeky bastards.

You dropped the phone when you first seen the water rushing in the room, leaving it dangling from the cord while you jumped on the nearest chair- your slippery shoes on the velvet almost made you fall back off- but despite the echoing of the rushing sounds around you, beeps from the speaker of the phone could still be heard. That wasn't there before.

You had to lay on your stomach and stretch you arm way past its limit to reach the phone, after re-stabilizing yourself you listened intently while idly shaking out your arm- at first it sounded like a dead line, until the deeps would go longer and shorter at certain times and there was an odd few pauses of long silence-Ring beep beep, short silence, ring ring ring, short silence, beep ring ring, long silence, beep ring ring-

"Are you dead?"

"Shut up!"

Maybe it was a little rude on your part, but you couldn't find yourself to care at the moment. The sounds were too precise to not mean anything, and you figured it out early on that it was mores code but your recollection was frail under pressure despite you having memorized almost the entirety of the alphabet last year when you wanted a somewhat niche talent- although you never thought it would actually come in handy. Beep ring ring- short silence- beep beep, short silence, ring beep, short silence, ring beep beep, short silence, ring ring ring, short silence, beep ring ring-

"The phone- It's mores code."

You've felt you've left Chishiya hanging for long enough, but you doubted he needed your help. You wouldn't be surprised if he already found his key. You vocalized your thoughts purely for the small chance he would give you a clue of some sort- or backup your suspicion of the signals. The water reached the chairs legs now, your entire body shivered when a lone splash entered your shoe, successfully soaking your whole sock.

The water was ice cold.

From the vent you heard a soft stagger from the room besides you, then a small sound of clashing metal- the same sound your phone made when you picked it up- "It does sound like mores code, doesn't it?"

Was he serious?

Despite having no way to see you, you still took a second to stare idiotically at the wall behind you- maybe if you stared hard enough it would crumble down and kill Chishiya with it. However that was wistful thinking, and it wasn't going to stop the water from flooding the room.

With your finger you had to draw out the sequence code on your thigh, using pictorial recollection to try and decipher the term- W I D- widow? The water was just shy of the top of the seat cushion- you had to shuffle to the backrest to avoid getting your shoes wet. W I N D O W - Window? With frantic eye's you searched the wall's, side to side, up and down; pictures, maps, wallpaper- but no window, no curtains to hide a window, either.

"Well? What now?"

Sense the room started to fill you felt the apprehension of the game weighing you down- the water was crowding you; on the walls, the floor, soon to the roof- you never knew you could feel so claustrophobic from a body of water, and the worst part was you didn't know what to do now.

"I don't know."

You could hear it in your own voice, too.

The cushion was soaking with water now, floating around the soles of your shoes and all you could was watch it vacantly with a blank mind. The phone never stopped repeating the same sequence. You would've been self-conscious of the anxiety seeping through your voice if you could think properly.

"You don't know mores code."

Displeased at how sure he sounded at his comment you felt the need to correct his statement.

"I do, but it doesn't make sense. I don't have a window in my room."

“But you have paintings in there don't you?" You don't even want to know how he knew that, "Is there a painting of a window? Maybe even a book about paintings with windows?"

There were no pictures of window's that were hung, or blatantly obvious books that held the knowledge of every painting with windows- but it did make you think about the dresser you eye'd upon first arrival, it looked a lot like the secret passage from 'The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe' but you also recalled the the stacked paintings that peaked out from the door- too bulky to fully lock the closet shut. The only down side about his proposition was the fact it laid across the other side of the room- the room that was now four feet deep in water.

You hated that his assumption made sense. Maybe you were being petty, but you neglected answering him.

Slowly you lowered your foot down- as soon as it reached your ankle you jolted back- you knew how cold the water was going to be from the tease it gave your foot but you were still left shocked at just how freezing the water was- somehow it was worse than before and the chill of the air was making your foot relieve it's experience of being dunked. Going slowly was surely not helping, neither would procrastinating, nor did the 30 minutes renaming of the clock- you plunged your whole body in at once.

You swear your vision went white- goosebumps ran throughout every pore of your body into every crevice of your brain and it was the closest thing you've ever experienced to an electric shock- it felt like you've just jumped from a Jacuzzi to the pacific ocean. You wouldn't be surprised if they did correlate the temperatures at your expense. Each step through the water felt like you getting shocked over and over and over again and you felt like you were moving a centimeter at a time but you continued across the room. You had to use your body as a stopper so the closet door would slam shut from the water pressure.

There were five painting laid out; The first three portraits, two of laddies one of a man- no sign of a window. The last two were water damaged and harder to make out- using your shirt to dry them did little to help the wilting paper- each were different designee's and sizes and still no sign of a window. If you felt stupid with you half-walk, half-swim across the room you felt like an utter idiot now. You scanned the book shelf's- the thousands of book laid across eight foot walls- most of which were submerged under water and physically unable to be read. Couldn't even one painter have been inspired to paint a window during their art guise? Weren't they supposed be be symbolic or something?

"I don't think anything in here has anything to do with windows!"

"Keep looking."

Think outside the box, is what he meant.

“Chishiya- I'm telling you there's nothing in this room. And if there is, it's already waterlogged."

"Water, huh? That's what you got?"

So preoccupied with your own threatening vice- you forgot Chishiya got one too.

"What'd you get?"

"Carbon monoxide."

Low white.

You missed when his voice turned muffled-likely the result of breathing through some sort of cloth- and the mockery of the aggressive string of coughs he let out after the fact was almost cinematic. You both went silent for a moment. 19 minutes remaining.

"I have a window in my room."

The game's rules of teams and groups ran around your head. You failed to remember how self-willed Chishiya was. You were going to kill him.

“Fuck you.”

A muffled, "Huh?"

"Nothing."

The last 20 minutes of the game went quicker than the first, maybe Chishiya could have let you try and play it out until the last few minutes but the gas seemed to be filling up his room quicker than expected- and the other team really held no competition considering their aimless train of thought. You were really glad you haven't stubbed the girl for whatever she was taking. As bothersome as Chishiya was- coaxing you into searching your body numbing room the reflection that you held just as much over Chishiya as he did you made it slightly more bearable- you refused to give his next code before he gave you yours- he didn't argue.

It was a hunt for numbers, each place hiding a numeral- and Chishiya was a lot quicker with his translation, because of course he knew mores code by heart- but they were getting vigorous harder too find. On your part the water reached you chin, half-paralyzing your body and the slight wave of the liquid made the water sting worse than before- it slowed your movements down, having to thrash around floating paintings and uneven tides to venture off every corner of your room. Chishiya's words got more slurred, making him harder to hear on top of the already muffled syllable's- funnily enough he almost sounded drunk- but the rapidity of his words only ever ceased slightly. The mores code of the phone changed after Chishiya found his first integer.

The last round was by far the worst- the water reached your height and you had to float above water to move, this time actually swimming, and your phone cord was losing length, just shy of brisking the water. Although you already dropped it once when you had to go into the right corner of your room from the lack of extend it gave you, the speaker spat water into your ear each time after that. Your body felt like it was convulsing, teeth forcefully chattering and your body wouldn't stop fucking shaking- it was making you more and more angry at the lack of control you had over your body, as stupid as it sounded. At the last number it was almost impossible to get out behind your shaky voice- maybe you made a sound or gave some indication of discouragement because Chishiya gave you your last code first, despite it being his turn.

Somehow it worked to place your mentality a little higher than your situation- you gave him his code before going to search for your own- you already had to shatter and rip up a painting, break off a lamp, tear apart a cushion, tug off wallpaper, and locate a hidden city on the map- and somehow the ending of your game was worse than finding them. You had to dial the number into the engulfed phone. You didn't think about it before you dove number water, the last thing you heard was Chishiya's door opening before your ears were packed with white noise. It felt like an ice bath, pricking your eye's like little needles and burning your nose- it was challenge in it's self to locate what numbers were which in the water, the cavitation and air bubbles distorted the numbers and clouded your vision, the cold only made it worse. Even after you jammed your stiff fingers into the according numbers (9-2-5-6-9-0) you didn't have the luxury of an already opened door and an emptying space, no, you had to open it yourself.

You were not made to be a pirate, and it was proved by how tedious it was to get the door open. The pressure was working against you and you couldn't open it purely by arm strength, buoyancy wouldn't allow you too use your body weight either so you had to forcefully slam yourself into it, grabbing onto the porthole for more force. It blazed through your left side, leaving it aching and irritated after only one try but it only fueled the demand of your actions- you felt like a psycho tying to break down the door and surely you looked like one- it made your actions stutter when you remembered that your game was being watched- they were going to have a field day with this one- but it didn't put a stop to your actions.

Only when you staggered forwards from the demand of the water, and the loud screech of the door opening did the water stop.

You remember little from how you ended up outside, sitting on a fallen log exhausted and bitterly cold- what you do remember was how odd it felt to walk with your normal weight again, you discarding your sopping wet pants, not missing the irony of the swim ware underneath and the sight of Chishiya placing the card in his jacket- you didn't even mind if he took it for himself, accusing you later on to Hatter and saying you stole the card- and what was up with you and losing your clothes in games?

It was warmer outside and Chishiya didn't rush you back to the Beach- although you didn't miss his few not-so-subtle stares between you and the car to which you only glared at him- he looked better off than you did, more reasoned in the head and physically- but you didn't doubt he needed fresh air as well, not sure you would trust being in a car with him after he inhaled toxins for 30 minutes no matter how hard he tried to play it off. You wonder if he did it subconsciously or not.

Your jacket was thin and therefore held less water, but it still clung to your skin no matter how many times you pulled it off and your hair kept wringing droplets onto your shoulder but you were too lazy to wring it out, your entire body was still covered in goosebumps - you heard a mew sound - and you hoped you didn't get frostbite - a meow followed after.

You heard Chishiya grunt in disapproval.

Wait, what?

A dark frizzy blob clung onto Chishiya's leg and he didn't look particularity happy about it. A dark frizz that had white fur, and pitch black eyes, and a tail-

"What the hell?"

When you spoke your voice was coarse and still slightly uneven but the cat looked at you with some recognition- it didn't seem to care though, instead rubbing it's face onto Chishiya's leg, leaving a trail of fur in it's awake. Its only when Chishiya lightly shook the cat off and toed it away from his direction did it slowly start walking to you as a last resort- although not with a few pauses and giving looks back at Chishiya like he would change his mind, it was properly acting like a dejected dog. Unlike it's keenness to Chishiya it sat a few inches in front of you, staring at you expectantly. Why did it act like it wanted to kill you?

It's dark eye's squinted at you.

"You're fatter than before. Eating good?"

It meowed back.

After a minute of staring and another minute of sniffing your shoe it finally let you course its back lightly, but if you got too close to it's tail or face it would hiss and quickly advert your hand- you had to roll up your sleeves to avoid getting water droplets on its fur. Apparently it hatted water and made it very clear after trying to attack your jacket. The cat was a girl, you found out, and after a few minutes of debating you mentally named it Alice. You thought it was fitting enough.

The roar of the engine rudely brought you back to your circumstance; your game, the frost of your skin, the fact Chishiya was going to drive off without you if you took to long- with a final pat on Alice's head you made your way back down the path.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back to the Beach was as quiet as it was from the Beach.

It was daunting how quiet Chishiya was compared to the start of the game- how quickly he was able to switch his act's now that he had an opinion on you- you could only guess what it was but you couldn't imagine anything more than lackluster. It almost made you feel dispirited- keyword almost- but you really hadn't had anything to show from the game. Nothing worth praising anyways, except the fact that you made it out alive- and even then Chishiya had more of the backbone during it. Although pouting in the same area he was in- especially over something so pointless- wasn't going to do you any good.

The coins surprisingly still laid in your jacket pocket.

The lowered window's helped the air flow in the car- it did wonders for drying your hair and jacket, yet it still made you uncomfortable at the way it nipped at your skin. Not as cold as the water- well, definitely not as cold as the water but still chilly enough to make your huddle into yourself, legs to your torso and jacket stretched over your knees. If Chishiya thought anything low about your actions he didn't voice them.

By the time you got back the Beach was still as lively as ever, loud crowds and booming music- it made you wish the water did irreversible damage to your hearing after all. You made your way up the gate in silence, you walking a few feet in-front of Chishiya- he gave you a indecipherable look when you muttered a sarcastic 'Girls first!' when he walked through the gate door you opened for yourself. The first thing on your mind was a warm shower (if you did get frost bite, was it safe to go into hot water right after?) and your bed, your layered, not drenched with water, bed. Surprisingly you were not as sore as you thought you would be, but maybe that was because you were still numb from your waist down, and you really shouldn't be jinxing yourself. It would be worse tomorrow.

Half way up the drive way Chishiya spoke up to your astonishment, it was the first thing he said to you at all after the game. He was fully turned to you and had his palm open, curiously you peaked down and saw the keys laid in his hand, trailing your eyes back to his face you gazed at him questionably. The Beach light's were definitely doing him justice- or maybe he always looked like that and you were just too far or it was too dark to tell. He looked exactly how he did on TV; Dead hair, pricing eye's, smooth pale skin- and he was definitely wearing eyeliner.

He looked good.

"Put the key's away would you?"

It made sense, the car slot and Hatters suite was on opposite end's of the beach- you were more surprised that he wasn't holding the key's out by it's chain so you wouldn't have to touch him. Trying not to be as weird as you felt- you hummed in agreement and took the keys into your own hands- he was significantly warmer than you, you wouldn't have guessed he ran hot- the asshole wiped his hand on his jacket after, you had to bite your tongue not to smile.

You're not sure what possessed you, or what type of sickness the game gave you but before he could walk away you asked, "So, Chishiya? What's my verdict?"

For the first time he did look a little surprised, it wasn't really an accomplishment but it sure felt like one, and he took a second to respond.

"I never told you my name."

Maybe you were better off not asking. You stayed put even after he walked away, through the crowds and into the building- you only moved when you heard a distinct meow behind you.

Looking back, you never realized how much Alice looked liked a cat version of Chishiya.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag- @mypsychoticlove

[eclec-tech]

Pairing: Clone Captain Brack (OC) and Dr. Zirdda Kyll, army physician

Ship Name: Brackyll

Captain Brack is an OC who popped up briefly in my long fic, and he's getting his own little tale in the Batched Zine OC Showcase (coming soon).

In the spirit of OC Sunday and in honor of the creative fun of Clone x OC Week, I made up an OC just for him. Dr. Zirdda Kyll—yes, it's pronounced kill—is a medical doctor from Mirial currently posted at the orbiting medical station at Ord Cestus.

They're both bored and lonely.

@clonexocweek Star Wars medical divider by @orbitalmirror

The worst part about having your ship limp into a base is that your men are usually in similar shape.

Captain Brack was able to walk away from this most recent battle with a dislocated shoulder and a few lacerations. Many of the men who made it back with him weren’t as lucky. With over sixty percent of his remaining men unable to walk and even more unable to hold a blaster, it was no surprise when he saw his company’s new orders: medical leave, four weeks, more pending medical re-eval.

Even with his arm in a sling, Brack tended to all the paperwork and protocols from that impossibly outnumbered mission in about a day and a half, including the debriefing via holo with Commander Cody and the handful of Jedi currently in the sector. He spent the other half of that second day checking in on each of his men, conscious or not, and walking the entire station to familiarize himself with his temporary home. By the third day, he was convinced he would need to be sedated if he had any chance of enduring the remainder of his medical “sentence.”

If only they were on a planet.

The orbiting medical station at Ord Cestus had but one view—stars. Brack didn’t mind a view of space if it was temporary, but the thought of being away from land and sky was not one he enjoyed. Kamino’s constant storminess bored him even as a child, and he knew he was in for a rough time if he were to look at the same gray walls and infinite blackness out every viewport for an entire month.

It only took a week for him to become bored out of his mind. His men needed rest, so he did his best not to bother them, and those who weren’t resting were busy training to rebuild the strength they needed to get back into the field. Brack trained as well, but it was only a temporary diversion. He needed a change of scenery.

The change he needed came in the form of a woman—and not just any woman. This one was the most breathtaking person he had ever seen.

A Mirialan with skin as purple as Garel at twilight was rare enough, but to see one with eyes the same blue as Kaller’s glaciers and hair the color of Naboo’s grasslands was like looking at a tour of the galaxy in the form of a person. When he was lucky enough to see her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Not only was she the most colorful woman on the station, she was also the only woman on the station. And she was frustratingly elusive. Every time Brack managed to catch a glimpse of her, she vanished almost immediately. Suddenly, he was no longer bored. Finding out who she was became his new, sanity-saving hobby.

It took a few days, but he eventually narrowed down her movements to a handful of levels in the center of the station. Then, one afternoon, he got lucky. The mug of caf she was carrying from the mess was a bit too full, and it slowed her down just enough that Brack was able to follow her back to her office.

The temporary sign at the door gave him the last clue in the puzzle. Her name was Dr. Zirdda Kyll, and that knowledge made up his mind immediately. He was going to say hello.

He lifted his hand to the door panel, then snatched it away. What was he going to say? That he had been following her? That he was bored and had nothing to do, so now he was going to make that her problem?

She made the decision for him.

“I can see you out there. There’s a camera. Come in if you want.”

Brack’s eyes flew to the speaker next to the door and the little camera above it. Kriff.

He opened the door to the tiny office and found her sitting at her desk with no fewer than twenty medical datapads spread out around the barely touched mug.

“What can I do for you, captain?”

Whoa. Her voice is just as beautiful as the rest of her. “I, um…I’ve seen you around, and since my men and I are going to be here for a while, I thought perhaps I should introduce myself.”

Zirdda smiled knowingly. “Yes, I’ve seen you around too.”

Oh, kark. Does she know I’ve been watching her? Was it that obvious?

Brack rubbed at the back of his neck. “There, uh, hasn’t been much for me to do.”

Her smile widened. “This isn’t the most exciting post. I float from station to station as needed, and this one lost its charm after about a week. I sympathize, Captain Brack.”

“How do you know my name?”

“You’ve been wandering the halls. It’s my job to notice things like that. I needed to make sure you weren’t being treated for head trauma with the way you’ve been so restless. There aren’t many men here well enough to be wearing their armor, so it was easy enough to find out who you were with a simple cross reference of rank and injury. How is your shoulder?”

Brack gave his shoulder a roll under his pauldron and hoped the twinge of pain he felt didn’t make it to his face. “Stiff but almost back to its full range of motion. Thank you for asking.”

She shrugged, “Like I said, it’s my job.” She stood and held out her hand. “Dr. Zirdda Kyll.”

He took her hand and whistled low. “I was wondering when I saw your name out there if it was pronounced that way. ‘Kill’ is not a great name for a doctor.”

Zirdda chuckled softly and settled back into her chair. “Don’t I know it. But don’t worry, I’m a killer in name only. Your men are perfectly safe.”

Brack chuckled back, his nerves settling into something warm and confident the longer he was there.

“So, why are you here, captain?”

“Well, I’ve seen you around and hoped that if I came in here and introduced myself, you might give me a shot.”

“‘A shot?’” she repeated with a giggle. “That is the first non-sleazy pick-up line I’ve heard since I got here.”

“Uh-oh.” Brack crossed his arms. “Have my men been giving you a hard time?”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

Brack’s eyes narrowed. “What have they been saying?”

“Let’s see…‘Would you like a private lesson on clone anatomy? Want to exchange genetic information? You look hot, can I take your temperature? You decide where I put my probe.’ Things like that. But to be fair, they were all heavily drugged at the time. The fact that they were able to get out complete sentences at all was a miracle. I won’t hold it against them.”

“If you tell me who said those things, I’ll have a word with them.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “They would probably be mortified to know they said those things to me.”

Brack’s eyes landed on the no-longer-steaming caf and the backlog of datapads, and he began to feel a little guilty for bothering her. “I should go. Your caf’s gone cold, and you probably don’t get a lot of downtime. It was nice to meet you, Dr. Kyll.”

He turned to leave, but Zirdda’s voice stopped him. “Captain?”

“Yes?”

“You can come by again tomorrow if you want,” she offered quickly. “I take my break at the same time every day, and I don’t remember anything on your chart suggesting that you can’t drink caf. I can grab two cups from the mess tomorrow if you’d like.”

Brack smiled. For the first time since he arrived, he had something to look forward to. “I’d like that.”

[tim-moth-thy]

Gotham's largest hospital here was a lot different from the version in Tim's universe. There it was almost militaristic- with how many people were injured by villains or crimes, it was highly organized and constantly moving. The highest floor was for long-term patients, and the one underneath it the children's ward. All the wards, however, could be converted to defensible areas in a pinch. At least two nurses a floor were there for protection as well as their usual work... Tim winced as his headache throbbed, bringing him back to the hospital he was actually in. This hospital had the children's ward and the long-term ward, but the topmost floor was apparently for the elite of Gotham, of which he and Bruce apparently counted. Bruce was in surgery still- he expected for six to eight hours, depending on the team of surgeons at work and their efficiency- so the nurses fussed over him instead after his brain scan, eye check, and general check-up. The events rolled in his mind despite their insistence he rest, swirling like marbles down a chute, only to be brought back up and mulled over again. Tim should have moved the other way. Forced Dick to make the right choice, to dive for Bruce instead of him. Bruce should have gotten the concussion and a bit of bedrest from Alfred. Should have, would have, could have. Tim knew he'd done all he could in the moment. But Dick should have saved Bruce. Why didn't he? How could he have picked Tim in all this? He wasn't even from this universe! Tim was an extra body here, only carving out a place as the deep-cover personas he'd developed. Tim didn't think anyone knew about them being him either, given Henrietta had also received an invite to this gala. Luckily he'd established her as a recluse, someone who only went to one or two galas a year. Another pang pulsed through his head, and Tim sighed, peering through his dark eyelashes at the small suite he'd been set up in. It was a nice sage green, cozy and personable. The room across the hall from his door was already being set up for Bruce, and that one was a deeper forest green. Nothing too garish for the rich, apparently. Dick occupied one of the chairs already, probably aware that Tim was no longer asleep and thinking and thinking instead. It was impossible not to, though. Even now, Tim's thoughts flitted to the gunmen- the shooters, now. In the hubbub, he hadn't been able to tell if they got away or not. He'd blacked out on and off in the ambulance, which was part of why they'd held him for observation. Finally, the teenager opened his eyes, glancing at the older hero. "Walk me through your thought process," he requested, tone overly polite. Anger seethed in his veins. Justify your choice. Your wrong choice. In what world was I even close to the right choice?

Say their names. List all your babies, Alfred had asked, and Bruce did as his father said- starting with Duke and finishing with Dick, as if unthreading the tapestry of his life. Recalling their arrivals in reverse.

He was still murmuring as he was taken to the ambulance, fading out somewhere between Steph and Tim.

The essential thing had been the oxygen; between the trauma to the lung and progressive hæmorrhage, his cells had been starved of air. Then fluid replacement. Then six gruelling hours of surgery repairing the partial aortic dissection, and the lower left lung resection.

There was an analogy to carrion birds that was a little too on the nose, with reporters watching for an announcement one way or another. The last word had been that Tim Drake was being kept for observation.

In the hours between the shooting and the present, wildfire rumours burned online.

It was reported as a hostage situation gone tragically wrong. Conspiracy theorists speculated it might have been a targeted hate crime. The Gala had been fundraising for the queer community; both Wayne and Drake had been seen dating men. Or perhaps it had been a target specific to Wayne Enterprises. Someone looking to exploit key members of the company. Or was this more personal? A family matter?

The shooters were- depending on who you asked -working for business rival Oswald "The Penguin" Cobblepot, or else Bruce's estranged friend, Harvey "Two-Face" Dent. Or maybe the Joker, this was Gotham after-all. In any case, the shooters had fled in the open panic- and were now believed to have gone to ground in fear of the Bat.

Hours spent, and the Wayne Family announced simply that Bruce Wayne was out of surgery and out of danger, but that the family requested privacy for the time being.

[ this is a closed rp thread with @butlerofthecave @officialbruciewayne @officialnightwing @redhoodedalleydog @tim-moth-thy @damian-demonspawn ]

[puppppppppy]

Was nobody gonna warn me that I would fall a little bit in love with every character in Stardew

[gio-cosmo]

This is my favorite image ever I think